The Day the Earth Stood Still
by maybeishouldmaybeishouldnt
Summary: This is in an alternate universe after season 10. The character I've introduced, Maire and Gael, are both of my making. I don't own anything supernatural...not sure if I should put, but here I am, putting it in. Safety precautions right? Also, this is story number 1, or episode 1 if you so choose.
1. Chapter 1

**(This happens after the finale of season 10 after The Darkness is released out into the world. This is obviously not going to happen, but it's pretty much my imagination going wild. The character introduced is completely made up by me, she's not really based on any other character. She's just a character I've been thinking about, like a lot, recently. Please review. I've never done something like this before…be gentle, but honest. Thanks )**

 **Chapter 1**

Lightening rockets from the sky and shoots into the ground. It breaks apart the ground in a circle. The lightening stops. Dean looks at Sam and Sam looks back. They quickly get into the Impala and slam the doors. The ground shakes and rumbles. Breaking open, a giant dark cloud flies out. The smoke fans out into a dome like shape, spreading out further and further. The dark clouds rushes towards them at a powerful speed, taking everything down.

"Go Dean, go!" Sam shouts at his brother.

Dean puts the car into reverse and backs into a pot-hole filled with water. Dean tries to shift his car in a different gear, but nothing happens. They're stuck. Dean and Sam look on and all they can do is sit and watch as the black smoke over takes them.

The Darkness rumbled around the Impala. It scratched at Baby's paint and tried to rip the doors off. It roughly pushes the car back, taking Baby's passengers with it. Dean and Sam are knocked around, jerking back and forth. Dean reaches out and takes Sam's arm. Sam takes Dean's hand and looks at him. He tries to mouth something to his brother. The car is torn away from the ground and slams into a couple of trees. The Impala is smashed in half, the front end is crumbled and half of it stands up straight. The back-end is laying upside down, a steel beam sticking out.

The Darkness settles. The ground stills. Smoke rises from the engine from Baby. Dean kicks the door open and falls out. He lies on his back and watches the smoke in a blurry haze. The black of The Darkness and the blue of the sky mingle together as if it were a Van Gogh painting. The earth wouldn't stand still, but that didn't stop Dean from flipping over on his stomach.

Sam is hanging half way out of the back end of the Impala, dangling there limply. Dean looks under Baby and reaches his hand out to his brother.

"Sammy," Dean chokes out. "Sammy, can you hear me?"

Nothing.

"Sam- ugh gah," Dean coughs up blood and it splatters upon his face.

Dean's head falls down and he wheezes. He needs to get up. He needs to get up and go over to Sam. Sammy needed him. Sammy…

Dean's thoughts start to fade, as well as his eyesight. Before he passes out, he hears a crunching sound, as if someone was walking towards him. The footsteps stop near him. Someone's hands flip him over onto his back. His eyes roll around. Those green eyes settle on eyes that almost matched his, but there was something pure about them. He felt a light cool hand on his forehead. Something warm moved from his head and smoothed its way down him. He closes his eyes and lets that magic, it was nothing he's felt before, do whatever it's meant to do.

The hand leaves his forehead, but the warmth stays and even intensifies. He hears footsteps again. Dean uses whatever energy he has left to turn his head and look. The figure crouches down and places their hand down on Sammy's chest.

Dean tries to call out Sam's name, but all that comes out is a gurgle. He hears a sharp intake of breath and sees Sam's chest moving. The figure goes back to Dean. The figure crouches down.

"He'll make it Dean. I promise you. He'll make it and so will you," the figure whispers in his ear. "It's time to go home now."

Dean closes his and lets unconsciousness take over.

* * *

Dean tries to roll his head from side to side. It's too hard. It feels like something his holding his head in place. He squeezes his eyes shut. Even the dim light coming through his eyelids made it feel like a billion pinpricks where stabbing his eyes. With whatever strength he could muster up, Dean flips to his side and pushes himself up. Dean's upper body flops forward, chest touching knees.

 _What the hell,_ Dean thinks to himself.

With a groan, he lifts his upper body, so he's sitting straight. He puts his hand up to his forehead. Rattling his brain for what he remembers last, Sam being impaled, Dean jerks his head up. Sam. _I have to get to Sam._ Pushing himself up, his weak legs buckle and Dean falls forward. He uses his arms as a support system to get his body to lean against the wall. He takes a couple of shaky steps. He makes it his bedroom door. Half turning his body, he looks both ways down the hallway.

Nothing.

Turning completely into the hallway, he makes his way down. He has to stop every once in a while to regain his breath, but he continues to moving. Finally, he makes it to the doorway that leads into the main room. Dean stops.

"Aye know aye promised ye aye wouldn't call ye, but…" a female voice, with an Irish lilt, carries over to him.

Dean turns his head to look. A short woman, maybe in her late twenties, was sitting in a chair, facing away from him. She has longish, brown hair, waving past her shoulders. She stands up and turns so that Dean can see her profile. There's a nice that flows from her forehead to her chin, with a small dent at the beginning of her nose, as if she were born with it. Her lips are drawn in a tight line, listening to words she probably didn't want to listen to.

"Aye know why ye're doing this…"

…

"Aye can protect ye better if…"

…

"Gael!"

…

"Wait! No! Don't!"

The woman pulls the phone from her and shoves it into her jean short pockets. She sighs and runs her fingers through her long, brown hair.

Dean reaches into the back of his pants and pulls out his gun. The female stops. Slowly turning to him, she says, "Hello Dean."

Dean levels the gun to her face. "Who are you?"

The female puts her hands up in mock surrender. "My name is Maire (My-rah)."

Dean cocks his gun. "You have three seconds to tell me what the hell is going on before I kill you."

Her greenish eyes, with gold mixed in, turns hard. "Firstly, ye don't have strength to keep that gun held up. Secondly, that's no way to thank ye're savior."

Raising her eyebrows, she smirks.

Dean's arms drop down, his gun clattering to the ground. Maire runs over and picks up the gun. She uncocks it and puts it on a nearby table. Before Dean collapses to the ground, she catches and helps him sit on the ground. She takes her hands and cups his face. The billions of needles, which quadrupled in his time of real light, slowly ebb away. However, a small needle stays behind and keeps poking right behind his eyes. Dean prefers that way more.

Maire pulls her hands away and checks his eyes and pulse.

"For a man who had enough internal bleeding to fill up a pool tube, you've healed quite nicely."

Maire rocks back on her heels.

"What about Sammy?" Dean rubs his forehead.

"He's in a coma." She stops to see how Dean reacts. He stops rubbing his forehead and looks up at her, worry filling those green, green eyes of his. "But, for someone who was impaled, he too, is healing quite well."

The way her accent elongates the vowels, makes it very difficult for Dean to understand what she's saying.

"What?"

"Ye're. Brother. Is. Fine." She pronounces each word slowly.

"What happened?" Dean askes, now able to hold himself up.

Maire shrugs. "Ye both died."


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: Okay, so I'm not sure how many times I'm going to post a week. I've two jobs to work around, but I'm not going to let that stop me! My plan is twice a week. When? I don't know, but what I do know is that one story a week is guaranteed. I believe in quality over quantity, I'm kind of OCD when it comes to writing. If I'm unable to post a story at all, I will let you know on the last chapter posted. Anyways, I'll let you guys get on with story!**

 **Chapter 2**

Dean's eyes widened.

"We…died…" Dean whispers.

Maire gives him an exasperated look. "Ye know, ye both should be used to it by now. Ye both die more than…anything really."

She pulls out a chair from on the tables, turns it, and sits on it. She leans back in the chair, all non-chalant. "Ye both should feel off if ye don't die at least once a year."

Dean rubs his face. His mind is trying to wrap itself around something. That whole dying part feels off. Wait. He remembers. He remembers dying and he remembers heaven. His own little slice of heaven. He remembers seeing it. He had his hand stretched out, ready to touch it. To finally receive peace. Dean clutches his hands tight. He grits his teeth and tightens his jaw. His eyes turn angry and he could feel that strong emotion boiling in the pit of his stomach. He's tired. He's tired and he is fucking down with all this supernatural crap.

"And I am done cleaning up all your super-power-hungry dick faces' messes!" Dean shouts out that last part. He's panting and his face is red.

Maire doesn't care much for what he just said. She raises an eyebrow at his tone. "Excuse me?"

Dean stands up and stalks towards her. "I'm tired of humans being your guys' toys! Tossing us around, as if we owe you our lives!" Dean jabs his pointer finger in Maire's face. "Sam and I! We have to clean up your destruction because of your carelessness!" The vein in Dean's forehead pops out. "I don't know what you want and frankly my dear, I don't give a damn! Clean up your own goddamn mess!"

Maire's face stays calm, and stoic. Only her eyes give of her anger. They turned a dark, emerald green. Dean shoots back, his body slamming against the wall. Dean watches as she slowly walks towards him. She isn't more than 5'3", but her stance was intimidating and menacing. He's more afraid of her than he was ever of Lucifer or Michael or any other supernatural being. She radiates power and authority.

His body slides up the wall, so that they are eye to eye.

"Ye made a deal with the devil." Her eyes don't move and she doesn't touch, but he's thrown across the room. "Ye broke the first seal." She throws him up in the air and slams him hard back down. "Ye let out Lucifer." Dean feels as if he's kicked across the floor. "Ye agreed to carry the Mark of Cain." His body slides up the nearest wall. Eye to eye. "Ye released the fucking Darkness."

Throughout her speech, her voice didn't change. It stayed calm and controlled, something that impressed Dean. She walks up to him and takes in his battered face and touches his broken ribs. She jabs two fingers into him and twists them. Dean lets out a groan and tries to clench his mouth shut. Her fingers move from his broken ribs and soon, his throat feels tight. It feels as if someone was tying a rope around his neck and wants to see how far they can push the knot before his head pops off. His fingers scratch at his neck, trying to gain some sort of release. Maire is now close enough, that their noses are almost touching.

"Ye've never cleaned up anyone's messes, Dean Winchester." Her Irish accent drips with controlled anger. "We've been cleaning up ye're messes."

Ding, dong.

Maire looks up at the front door to the bunker. Dean crumples down to the floor, gasping for air. It forces itself down his windpipes. The door flings open and there, at the stop, stands Castiel. In a blink of an eye, Maire is at the top, catching Cas before he falls over the railing. Dropping back down to the main room, Maire is already looking for his wounds.

One hand is placed on his face and the other roams over his shivering body. A greenish light wraps itself around Castiel's body. Dean crawls over. He stops when he sees Cas' face. It's pale, deathly pale. Red, bloody streaks slid from his eyes down past his jaw. The blood is already drying. Castiel's chest barely moves up and down; his breathing heavy. Dean reaches a hand out to touch him, to somehow comfort his friend. Maire swats at his hand and places hers back over Castiel's face.

"He's already healing himself," she says more to herself than tot Dean. "However…" She tilts her head to one side. "He doesn't have enough grace…"

Her eyes jerk up to Dean. "Carry him."

* * *

Carrying the angel the bridal way, Dean kicks the door open to his room. Carefully, he lays the angel upon his bed. In order to get close enough to Castiel, Maire walks over to the other side of the bed and kneels next to him. She closes her eyes and holds one hand over his knees and the other over his face. Blueish tendrils flows from her hands. They weave in and out of Cas' unconscious body. Maire pulls her hands back and sits on the bed.

Please don't die, Dean begs, please, please, don't leave me.

Feeling the sting in his eyes, he takes a deep breath. Worry twists it's fingers in Dean's stomach, messing with his intestines. Castiel's face is still pale, but it looks more peaceful than it did when he first came in. The blood stands out horrifically. Dean knew what curse this was. He knew who did it and when he finds Rowina, he is going to make her pay. At least the 40 long years in Hell will come in handy for something.

Turning his attention back to Castiel, he notices how the trench coat makes him appear so small. Dean knows better than anyone how powerful the angel is. To see him like this, weak and pitiful, it hurt. Feeling eyes on him, Dean turns his face up. Her green, gold eyes meet his.

"What?" Dean spits out, his voice coming out gruff.

"It's only a curse." Maire looks back at Castiel. "If he was human, he'd be dead."

She stops as she thinks about something. "Hell, he's lucky that the witch who did this didn't lock his grace up."

She turns back to Dean, giving a small comforting smile. Two small dimples appear right at the tips of her mouth. Dean's mouth twitches to match her smile, but it was only for a second. She lets out a sigh.

"Go check on Sam." Maire stands up from the bed. She walks over to him and Dean flinches. She rolls her eyes. "Don't worry, ye're fully healed. It may have felt like everything inside ye was broken, but it wasn't." She pushes Dean out the door, "ye'll know when he wakes up. Trust me. Ye'll hear him."

* * *

 **15 minutes later…**

That wicked smile as she left. Red taking over his eyesight. Crowley stuck in place. Angel blade in hand. Hand moves up. A grunt and a turning start. Jumping into the air, blade at the ready.

"Crowley!" Cas jerks up, chest heaving. His blue eyes look around, landing on a female. He found her quite attractive. Her long brown hair waves down past her shoulders, and strand lightly touches her cheeks. She gives him a smile and automatically trusts her. Castiel doesn't know why, but there is something about her that he notices. His electric blue eyes stick to her like glue. She takes her hands and places them on his face. Her eyes turning emerald green. A warmth stretches down from his head to his toes. It comforts the little pain that was left over. In all his long years, Castiel has never felt magic like this before. It was almost as if she was just pure magic. Seeming as if she is pleased with the results, she nods her head and pulls her hands away.

"Who are you?"

"Maire." She stands up from the bed and looks down at him. "I'll go fetch Dean, he would like to see you. I also need to check on Sam." She says the last part to herself.

She pats him on the shoulder, as if he has done a good job of something, and walks out the door.

* * *

A gasp of air forces its way into Sam's chest. His chest convulses up. Maire walks into the room when she sees the attack starting. Her eyes, in a glance, realize that Dean isn't there. She runs over to dean and tries to lay her hands on his over arched body, trying to make him flat.

"Dean!" She yells.

Dean rushes in and Maire places his hands right over Sam's heart. She puts her hands on top of his. They try to force Sam down. Hot little sparks hit the tops of his hands. He looks down and sees red sparks coming out of her hands, moving down into Sam's chest. Sam exhales that same gasp of air that forced its way in. His eyes pop open and his breath is quick. In, out. In, out. Maire furrows her brows and places her hands on his forehead and moves down to his cheeks. She feels for his pulse at his neck. Maire let's out a breath and smiles. Sam is able to re-regulate his breathing on his own. This is a very good sign. She looks over to Dean. He's staring at her, waiting for some sort of news. Maire nods her head.

"The worst part is over," she says.

Sam closes his eyes and he breathing relaxes.

"Make sure his breathing is nice and even. Check every thirty minutes," she says. "Here."

She hands Dean a piece of paper. He takes it and stares at it, confused.

"What the hell is this?" He asks.

Maire points to the piece of paper. "That, me dear boyo, is my number. Should something, ye call me."

"Can't I call you, like I call Cas?" Dean asks, snarkily.

Maire's mouth tightens and her eyes burn bright emerald for just a second. "I'm not a dog." She steps up to Dean, not even bothering to stand on her toes. "Angels were created to be at the beck and call of their Father. He created them. He's not powerful enough to create me."

Maire does an about face and walks over the bedroom door.

"Wait!" Dean calls out, following out to the hallway and into the main room. "You're leaving, just like that?"

Maire slowly turns around, her eyes still emerald. "Ye've made it very clear that ye wouldn't help me. But me, I always finish what I start."

Maire zaps up to the bunker door and walks out. The slam echoes throughout the room. Dean looks at the ten digit number on the slip of paper. He slips it into his jean pockets. He checks on Sam, to make sure he's still breathing normally. Next, he goes to his room to check on Cas. The angel is sitting up, his hand held up to his forehead.

Relief floods Dean to see that the angel was okay. He thanks Maire, silently of course and knocks on the door. Cas grunts to let him know that he can come in.

"How're you holding up?" Dean asks, leaning against the door frame.

"My head is trying to kill me," Cas grunts. "Maire says some ibuprofen will do and I'll be good as new."

Dean nods. He looks down at his feet, trying to think of something to say. Like how happy he is that Castiel is alive. Dean wants to ask why he looked the way he did. He wants to know how Rowina got him. He just wants some answers and some sort of consolation.

"Dean," Cas calls out, taking him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah, Cas?" Dean turns back around.

"There's something…off about Maire…"

"What about her feels off?"

Cas shrugs his shoulders, as if he is trying to put his finger on. "Something just doesn't feel right."

"Care to elaborate?"

Cas thinks for a minute.

"She's old, Dean."

"So?"

"She's older than me…" Castiel trails off, as if he doesn't want to finish off that thought.

"What else, Cas?

"She's powerful, Dean." Cas looks Dean right in the eyes. "I've never felt that much power radiate from anyone, not even from my Father."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

 **Hey everyone, sorry, I'll only be able to post one chapter this week because I need to pack and clean and unpack and it's a freaking hassle. Anyways, I thought I would give pronunciations of the names, so that it's easier to understand, because a majority of Irish names do not sound like they're spelt.**

 **Maire is My-rah**

 **Gael is Gale, from what I understand at least.**

 **Muirisc is Murrisk.**

 **I know, it's going to get confusing when I keep adding them, but I'll try to remember to post the names. On another note, I was thinking of writing different stories, but they'll be like episodes of a season and each chapter is like a scene. So if you guys have any ideas what you'd like to read, let me know. Also, it would be awesome if you guys would leave a review and let me know if you like what I'm writing or not, or if you have pointers, or if you have questions, blah de blah de blah. Onward with the show!**

* * *

The two men stand out in the main room to allow Sam some rest.

Dean's green eyes bore into Cas', feeling somewhat confused. "How powerful?"

Cas draws his brows down together, "I'm not sure. All I know is that she surpasses the amount of power my Father had, even when He was in His prime."

"Great, just fucking great," Dean sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Cas tilts his head, as if considering telling Dean something. "What is it?" He asks, looking at the angel.

"It's just that…" Cas trails off, as if he's trying to form some words. "It's just that, she didn't seem threatening. I mean, with that much power, you should have been liquefied."

"So she's just a nice powerful being, is she?" Dean taunts. "That's a nice change of pace."

"I think she's hiding her powers," Cas explains, "like she doesn't want to be found. Also…"

Dean sighs in exasperation, "Also what, Cas?"

"She allowed me to see her true form."

"What did she look like?"

"An electric, green wisp. It moved and looked like a soul, but it wasn't a soul. It was like a sort of…consciousness."

Dean leans back against his chair, his head dropping back. "I guess we'll have to do some research. But first, I think I'm going to take a nap."

"Of course," Cas whispers.

Dean closes his eyes. He lets everything he's feeling and thinking just turn off.

* * *

 _A girl with short, blond hair sits in a radio booth, talking animatedly into the microphone. She's telling a story. A story about an Irish woman who was a sea captain and a princess. She was as bold as she was beautiful. Dean watches from a window as she's regaling one of the sea tales. After thirty minutes of storytelling, music and sound effects emphasizing moments and emotions, the tale comes to the end with the sea princess cutting the head off of a magical sea creature._

" _Muirisc is considered to be one of the mothers of hunters. An honorable legend of people who sacrifice their lives by fighting the supernatural so that normality may live on with those who know nothing. This is it for the Irish Hour. I hope ye all have a lucky day. Slán,cairde."_

 _The "On air" light turns off and everyone gives a round of applause. One man takes off a pair of head phones. He has black hair, that's neatly combed over. He's tall, about the same height as Dean. He's wearing a button down shirt, a greyish blue solid shirt, they bring out his stormy grey eyes, highlighting the specks of blue.. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows. He stands up and walks out the door that leads into the studio room. He has a hand up in the air, ready for a hive five._

" _Amazing job, as always, Miss Gale."_

 _The woman stands up. She gives the man the high five and smiles brightly. "Thanks Jared. I was so nervous." Gale drops her Irish accent. The American accent sounds strange coming from her._

 _The man, Jared, pats her on the shoulder. "You've been doing this gig for how long?"_

 _Gale laughs, and it's like Christmas bells ringing in Dean's ears. Her laugh is light, bright even. It gives off warmth that drags a smile to Dean's face. Jared and Gale continue talking. Her dark green/blue hazel eyes move around the booth. Gales eyes land on Dean. His breath hitches._

 _Gale couldn't have been more than twenty-five years old, but those eyes. Those eyes look older than Cas'. Gale points over in Dean's direction. Dean looks around, trying to find somewhere to bolt. But Jared looks in the direction that Gale is pointing._

" _I don't see who you're looking at," Jared says, confused._

 _Gale waves him off, as if it seeing Dean is nothing. "They just left."_

 _Her eyes stick to Dean and she mouths something. Dean squints his eyes to see what she's saying. She keeps repeating the words over and over again, her eyes fill with worry._

* * *

"AHHHH! AHHH! HA! HA!"

Dean jerks awake. Cas immediately stands up and runs out of the room. Dean follows suit. They sprint down the hallway and Dean bursts through Sam's bedroom door.

"Sam!" Dean shouts, when he sees Sam's body. "Sammy!"

Sam's body convulses. The screams rip from Sam's throat and fills the room. His body looks as if it's going to snap in half by the way his back bent. Fingers are curled into his palms. Legs are jerking each and every way. Head snaps side to side, back and forth, as if it is trying to break itself off. Sam's mouth is foaming red, with blood dripping down his chin.

"Cas!" Dean shouts as he runs over to Sam and tries to hold him down. "Do something!"

Cas puts his hand to Sam's forehead. Nothing. He tries putting his hand on Sam's chest and nothing.

"Cas!" Dean yells, glancing from him to Sam.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Cas looks at his hands, terrified and confused. "I-I can't."

Dean lets go of Sam and uses one hand to dig into his jeans. He takes out a slip of paper and tosses it to Cas. It flutters down on top of Sam's writhing body. Cas picks it up and stares at it.

"Call that number!" Dean orders, as Sam tries to buck him off. "NOW!"

Cas fumbles as he pulls his cell phone out. His fingers jumbles up the number, but after a couple of tries of "we're sorry, this number is out of service," he finally hits in the right" combination.

"Come on, Sammy," Dean begs. "Come on."

 _Ring. Click._

"This is Maire," an Irish accent crackles over the phone.

"Maire, it's Castiel," He says rather quickly. "It's Sam…"

 _Click._

 _"_ Move." Maire appears behind Castiel. She pushes aside. "Flip him on his side."

Dean struggles to flip Sam. Limbs jumble together. After a while, Dean is able to flip Sam on his side. Maire pushes him away and places her hands an inch away from Sam's convulsing back. A warm, yellow glow emits from her hands and spreads out along his back. Her eyes close. Maire's brows come together and a frown sets on her mouth.

"Dean," she opens her eyes and they turn an electric emerald green. She can feel Dean trying to help her, but right now she needs him to move. "Back off. Now."

Dean's about to protest. He looks at her face. It is glowing. Her jaw is set. Her eyes focused on her job. Dean backs up and watches as the yellow glow encompasses Sam's body. Sam gets stuck in an overly arched positions, with his stomach sticking out.

Maire closes her eyes. She breathes in and breathes out. She bows her head and Sam's body stops and relaxes. His breathing returns to normal. Dean slides down the hall, relief flooding over him. He thought, Dean gulps down air, he though he lost his brother again. Maire puts her hand on Sam's pulse. She closes her eyes and counts. After a couple of seconds, she pulls her hands away.

"He'll be," Dean chokes, "He'll be okay, right?"

Maire nods her head. She sits on the bed beside Sam.

"What happened?" Dean asks, "I thought he was healed?"

Maire whips her eyes to him. "He _died_ Dean. He was _impaled._ If ye had checked on him when I told ye this, none of this would have happened!"

"So he's healed?" Cas asks. "Fully healed?"

Maire nods her head. "Now he just needs to rest."

Cas stands on the other side of the bed, facing Dean and Maire. "Why couldn't I heal him?"

"What?" Maire asks, tiredly rubbing her forehead.

"Why couldn't I heal Sam?" Castiel demands. "I'm the Angel of the Lord-"

"He was _dead_. No pulse. No breath. _No soul."_ Maire removes her hand and stares at him. "Ye're grace also isn't as strong as it once was."

"I'm…weak…" Cas says, more of a despairing thought than a question.

"Yes. Now, are there any other questions?" She asks, slightly annoyed.

Dean looks at Sam's sleeping face. He looks so peaceful, childlike. Dean inwardly smiles. He hasn't seen that look in a long time. Dean scrunches his eyebrows together and chews on the inside of his cheek, thinking.

"What are you?" Cas questions.

"A supernatural being," Maire replies sarcastically. "What are ye?"

Cas furrows his brow, confused. He thought she knew. "I'm an angel of the Lor-"

Maire rolls her eyes and they land on Dean. "Ye'd think by now he'd have picked up sarcasm."

"Careful what you say," Cas threatens.

"Or ye'll what?" Maire taunts. "Ye'll smite me?"

"You don't know what I am capable of. I can destroy you with a snap of my fingers."  
"Ye're little rouse won't work on me, Castiel." She spits his name out, as if it tastes bad on her tongue. "I already know what ye know about me."

Castiel's nostrils flare. Maire smirks.

"I thought you weren't a dog," Cas mocks, wanting to hit her where it hurts, "coming when you're called."

Maire quickly stands up, jostling the bed.

"I can kill ye with a minor thought." Her eyes turn metallic green. "I don't have to wave me hands. I don't have to say or think about a spell. I don't have to touch ye. All I have to do is think."

Maire traps Castiel with her eyes. He can't look away. He can't even move. One side of her mouth twerks up.

Cas gasps. A pain gripped his heart. It twists side to side, almost as if someone was trying to rip it out. He clutches at his chest and falls to his knees. Cas starts gagging. Blood gurgles up and out of his mouth and slithers down his chin.

"Cas!" Dean shouts.

Maire doesn't even look at him. Dean slams down back onto the floor, unable to move. Cas falls onto his hands, now on all fours. A puddle of blood pools beneath his mouth, a string of blood dangling. His body heaving. Tears stream down his face.

"Stop!" Dean shouts, struggling against the invisible bond.

"Ye feel that immense pain?" Maire walks over to Cas and crouches down in front of him. "That's me crushing ye're heart and it's not ye're vessel's heart. It's ye're angel heart."

That's impossible. No God creation can touch that part of him. _Impossible. Impossible._ Cas coughs up more blood.

"Ye're dying, angel." Maire whispers. "That's how powerful I am in _this_ vessel."

"I'll do it!" Dean shouts. "I'll help you with whatever you need. Just stop!"

Maire's fierce eyes turn to him. "In exchange for his life?"

"Yes!"

"Alright. Ye've got ye're self a deal, Mr. Winchester." Maire stands and Cas falls completely flat on his stomach.

Maire flips him over and places her hands over heart. Her hands start glowing and Cas starts breathing regularly again. Dean jumps up and runs over to the angel. He helps Cas stand up, putting his arm around Dean's neck.

"What are you?" Dean asks.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

 **Hey guys! Guess what?! I finally got internet, as of yesterday, and I am also moved, though that was a pain in my ass, but whatever. It. Is. DONE! So, I do have an idea for the next chapter, not sure if I'm going to go with it or not, but I figured you guys would like a change of pace from the Winchesters and Maire. WARNING: this chapter does talk about mass shootings. If you are not alright with it, please skip that part. It is important to the story, and they will talk about it in less detail later on, but if you're comfortable with it, please do skip. Also, review. I do want to know what you guys think, whether you like it or not or if you have some interesting ideas or if there is something I need to work on. I do appreciate criticism. Otherwise, how else do I become a better writer? ONWARD AND OFFWARD!**

* * *

Maire just stares at Dean, deciding whether or not she wants to answer him. Maire walks over to one of the tables and gestures for them to sit down. Castiel and Dean follow suit and sit across from her. Maire sits down after them and takes a deep breath.

"To make this easy for ye two to understand," she stops and looks between them. "I am the first original thought. AKA: The Tree of Knowledge."

"What?" Dean asks, looking more perplexed than ever before. He takes a minute to process what she just said and says again, "What?"

"Like the Tree of Knowledge, in Eden?" Cas asks, also confused. He never knew the tree was a living being. Albeit, an old one.

Maire tilts her head to the side, contemplating Castiel's question. "Kind of. Except, not only just in the knowledge of good and evil, but in everything."

Dean rubs his eyes with his thumb and pointer fingers. "So, what, you _were_ created by God?"

"No." Maire says, making the sound of the elongated vowel sharp. "I was here way before God knew this location existed."

"What?" Dean asks, finally looking at her. Again, he's trying to process. It is taking him a while, hence the repetition, "What?"

Maire looks exasperated. Her eyes turn to Cas and he's still trying to mull over what she just said. Obviously, the angel was created after God trapped her in that God forsaken tree. "I became when the Darkness became."

"In other words," Cas looks up at her, talking rather slowly as if to get his words right. "When the Darkness appeared, so did you?"

"Aye," Maire says, as she nods her head.

"So you know how to destroy it?" Dean muses.

"Ye can't kill it."

"What?"

"Just like ye can't kill Death, ye can't kill the Darkness," she explains.

"But I did kill Death, with his scythe."

Maire shakes her head, "No, ye just really pissed him off. I wouldn't call on him for help for the rest of yer life if I was ye."

"Ah, fuck," Dean groans, lying his head down on the table.

"Anyways," Maire continues, ignoring Dean's current mental breakdown. "If the Darkness could be destroyed," her eyes shift to Cas, "Don't ye think yer Father would have?"

"That's why the Mark of Cain," Cas muses, as the puzzle pieces come clicking together.

Maire nods her head once more. "Death told ye, before ye scythed him," her eyes landing on Dean's form. "that the mark is a key. What ye released, ye must put back."

"Great," Dean mutters into the table, "Just fucking great."

 _Crash! Boom! Rattle, rattle._

"Umpf!" A grunt comes from the hallway.

Dean lifts his head up and instantly jumps out of his chair. He runs out of the room. A couple minutes later, a hand appears at the door frame, leading back into the room. Dean helps a disoriented Sam from the hallway.

Sam's arm is draped around Dean's shoulders and he's leaning heavily against his older brother. Maire watches in amusement as Dean tries his damnedest to keep Sam upright. But, you know, if Sam wasn't so goddamn tall, Dean wouldn't have this problem. Sam's hazy, hazel eyes land on Maire. Her greenish-yellow eyes follow him as Dean helps him sit down in the chair next to her. Sam looks up at Dean in confusion as his brother moves away and sits opposite of him.

Maire turns to Sam and places her hands on either side of his face. Sam tries to pull aya, but she holds him tight and fast. Her eyes turn to a soft, meadow green, glow. Closing his eyes, he feels a warmth spread from his head, down. A warm liquid starts filling in empty spaces, space he didn't even know needed to be filled, in his abdomen.

"Do ye feel pain anywhere?" Sam's eyes pop open at her Irish accent. '

"No," he replies, surprised at himself for feeling so trusting to this stranger. "I just feel a little nauseous."

Maire nods her head, understanding that he is telling the truth. Her eyes dull back to their original color. She pulls her hands away, but the warmth stays, seeping itself deeper into Sam. Maire turns her attention to Dean.

"He's all healed now," she says, "the nausea should pass with in a day or so." She looks back to Sam, "If it doesn't and ye feel a sharp pain, ye let me know."

Sam is about to lie and say sure, but the look in her eyes told him that she would know, regardless, if he told her or not. "Alright. But, who are you?"

Maire holds out her hand. "Maire. Better known as the Tree of Knowledge."

Sam takes and shakes her hand. "What?"

Maire rolls her eyes, "Eloquent, just like yer brother."

"Maire was just about to tell us more." Dean's gaze never left Maire. They were watching her, as if ready for her to do something.

Maire turns to Dean, her eyes flashing a steely emerald. Dean barely flinches, but Sam caught it. Apparently, so did Maire. He sees her mouth twitch up into a small smile. Amused, Sam's eyes move between the two of them, wondering what happened.

"I was explaining to this little boy and his pet angel, that the Darkness ye three morons released, can't be killed."

"Maybe God wasn't powerful enough," Dean says, watching Maire's face for some sort of reaction.

"Maybe," Maire replies, not giving him one.

"If you're more powerful than Him, that means that you kill it."

Maire's gaze never wavers from Dean's. She also doesn't step down from the challenge. "In order to do that, I need yer help."

"Our help with what?" Sam asks, giving her that concerned look he pulls off so well.

"Ye know all about powerful vessels," Maire's eyes shifts meaningfully at the three of them. "Michael's vessel. Lucifer's vessel. Castiel's vessel." Her eyes land on each of them as she says their names.

"You need us to find your vessel?" Castiel asks. "What about the body you're in now?"

"It's a temp body," Maire explains, leaning back against the chair. "It's not strong enough to keep me."

"I assume you know where your real vessel is," Dean says.

Dean expects some sort of snide remark. He expects her to use her magic to shove him to the ground, throw him against the wall. Something. But her eyes turn a mossy green color. Her face remains neutral, but her eyes look sad. She looks down at her hands and fidgets with her fingers.

"No," she says softly.

"Can't you find another vessel?" Sam asks, his brows furrow together. "One that's powerful enough to hold you?"

Maire shakes her head. "That's why I need yer help."

The three men sit in silence as they watch her, waiting for her answer.

"Someone is killing vessels that are strong enough for powerful beings."

"What?" Castiel abruptly stands up. The room stays quiet as they watch him

Dean raises an eyebrow, Maire looks up at him, and Sam holds his stomach, hoping no one notices. Sensing his movements, Maire's eyes shift to him. A knowing smile spreads across her face. She reaches a hand under the table and Sam takes it. Sighing internally, Sam relaxes as the warmth caresses the painful spot in his abdomen. Maire releases his hand after giving it a squeeze.

"The angels are worried," Cas finally says. "Hannah's asking for my help."

With a wave of her hand, Maire sends Castiel out of the bunker. She turns her eyes to the boys and there's something off about them. They're full of concern. But also, they look scared.

"There's something I need to show ye boys."

* * *

After reading the many articles Maire pulled up on Sam's laptop, Dean and Sam watch a video of one of the shootings. Somehow, Maire was able to hack into the FBI database to retrieve the footage. The two boys sit there, horrified. A handful of masked people have all the victims lined up along the shelves in the convenience store. They can't hear the sounds, thank God for that, but the two boys could see their mouths moving, most likely begging for their lives. The shooters unload their guns into them. The brothers couldn't believe the callousness and detachment. Their actions making it seem as if the others were a nuisance. They were focused on one individual. The girl looked sixteen, with her long, brown hair, freckles dusting the bridge of her nose. She was crying. She crawled along the wall, trying her best to move away from the shooters. A man, with a red mask instead of a black one, walked right up to her, his gun hanging lax by his side. He crouched down in front of the crying girl. It looks like he's saying something to her, because the girl scrambled back and the red masked man holds up his gun and shoots. Point. Blank. Salt and pepper tear up the computer screen for a couple of seconds and then, the footage returns back to normal. The shooters gone.

Silence fills the room as the video ends. They were both speechless. Utterly. Speechless. Maire waits for them to process and collect their thoughts. Sam and Dean have seen a lot of shit, but this? This takes the fucking cake. The shooters had played with the victim before she died, her corpse was a bloody mess by the time they were done with her after she was shot.

Sam closes the laptop and pushes it away, as if it were dirty. Dean rubs his face, trying to get rid of the images.

 _What the_ hell _is going on?_ Dean wonders.

"How many," Sam's voice cracks in the middle. "How many victims?"

"Three vessels," Maire answers quietly. "But the amount of civilians? Too many."

"What about yours?" Dean asks, still rubbing his eyes.

Maire takes a shaky breath. "Thankfully, still alive."

"Can you sense her?" Sam asks.

Maire shakes her head, "She's learned a nifty little trick over the years. If she doesn't want me to find her, she'll make damn sure of it."

"Do you know who the shooter is?" Dean asks with quiet anger.

Maire nods her head. She doesn't say anything though.

"Who is it?"

When she doesn't say anything, Dean jumps up and yells, "Who the hell is it!"

Maire looks at him, her eyes level with Dean's.

* * *

 **Hello fellow readers! I have currently caught the writing bug and I intend to write the next chapter, so good news? You might get three chapters this week! WOOT WOOT! Anyways, please review!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

 **So here's another chapter, like I promised. Please review and let me know what you guys think! Also, if you know what I'm saying is wrong, please tell me and I will fix it! I promise! Now, ONWARD AND OFFWARD!**

* * *

 _It's a dark night. Stars hidden by the tree tops and clouds. A storm threatens the land, shaking the ground. Lightning and thunder threaten to break free from the sky. Thunder rumbles softly while the lightning makes the cloud edges glow. Wind blows, trying to make the trees bow to it. It's almost as if the gods and goddesses were battling. What's this? Movement? In the sacred woods?_

 _A worn out woman staggers through the forest, carrying a small bundle in her arms. Her red hair is in disarray and her dress is tattered, like an animal's claws have tried to rip it from her body. Feet bloodied, she limps along a faint trail that she can barely see when the lightning crackles. She holds the bundle tighter to her chest when her feet miss a step._

 _The wind blows harder now, wanting to see how hard it can push this broken woman. She falls to her knees and her upper body leans forward, her forehead is on the ground. She holds the bundle with all her might. She has to. She must get it to safety. The woman lifts her head, her already wild hair, tangles with the wind. Her green eyes grow harsh and strong. She forces her legs and feet to stand up. She continues on._ Safety. Must. Get. To. Safety.

 _Reaching a clearing, she looks up. Her eyes widen at the sight of the twisted tree. A hazel tree and an oak tree's trunks are twisted together. The crown of the tree reaches just below the lowest branches of the trees that surround it. The green leave jostle as the wind blows, but it doesn't move much. The woman could feel the power radiating from the tree. The Druid was right. The woman wants to jump for joy, throw her hands up in the air and celebrate! She's found it! She's found the tree!_

 _Cautiously, she stumbles up to the tree and looks up at it. She lays down the little bundle at the twisted trunks. She lays her hand down on the baby's forehead, and gently caresses the baby's cheek. She rubs it gently. A tear trickles from her eyes and slowly streams down her cheek and drops upon the small face. A breaking smile cracks her face. This was for the best. She leans down and presses a kiss to the small baby's forehead. She prays to the goddess of the magical tree to protect her little one. She touches the baby's cheek once more._

 _"_ _Tá brón orm, mo ghrá," she whispers._ I'm sorry, my love.

 _With those final words, she stands up and turns away. She walks into the forest and disappears, the tattered ends of the dress wave goodbye to the sleeping baby. Branches lean over the baby, protecting it against the weather. The tree, if trees could, looks down lovingly at the sleeping form._

 _"_ _Dia duit beag amháin ." The tree sends its thoughts to it._ Hello little one.

 _A leaf falls from one of the branches and gently strokes the child's cheek as it swirls toward the ground. The little being wiggles its nose, and scrunches its face. The little fists tighten even more and it brings them close to its chest. The tree smiles._

 _"_ _Tá tú mianach agus tá mé leatsa."_ You are mine and I am yours.

 _"_ _Agus beidh mé glaoch ort Gael."_ And I shall call you Gael.

* * *

"And that, my fellow listeners," Gale says in her Irish accent, "is the end of the Irish Hour. I hope ye have a lucky day."

The red ON AIR turns off. Gale takes the huge headphones off and runs her finger through her short, dirty dishwater blond hair. She lays the headphones on the deck and kicks the chair away. It rolls towards the door and she stands up. She looks out the window and catches another woman and Jared talking. The woman has wiry, brown hair, that's pulled back in a tight bun. The woman's sleeves, on her billowy white blouse, moves around as she talks with her hands. Jared's hands are placed on his hips as if he's displeased with what he's listening. The woman looks worried. Gale steps out of the studio and closes the door silently behind her.

"That's the strange thing, Jared," the woman states, "they only took her file. The office is a mess, but that's the only information missing."

"Alright, we'll call the officials," Jared says, finally broken down by Iris.

The woman's brown eyes catch Gale standing behind Jared. She clears her throat. "Hey Gale."

"Hey Iris," Gale says as she steps up to them. "What's going on?"

Jared looks at Gale and then back to Iris, thinking whether he should tell her or not.

"No point in lying," Gale says, crossing her arms, "You know I'll find out sooner or later."

Jared sighs and runs his fingers through his hair. "Someone broke into the office last night and took some files."

"What?" Her eyes narrow at Jared. "Did they take anything important?"

Jared nods his head, "They took some personnel files, but other than messing up the main office, that's about it."

"You going to call the cops?"

"That's the strange thing," Iris pipes back in, "the FBI is already here. They said its part of a case they're working on. That's all the information they could divulge at this time though."

Gale's eyebrows furrow together. "The FBI?"

"Do you want me to show them in?" Iris asks Jared.

Jared nods his head, "Take them to my office. Tell them I'll see them in five minutes, I need to talk to Gale about something."

* * *

Two officers sit in the uncomfortable chairs, waiting for Jared. One of them looks around his office. The walls are painted a light mocha brown, trying to give off a warm feeling. Landscape pictures line the side walls and awards and certificates line the wall facing the two agents. The tall one, with longish brown hair, turns his head as the door opens. The stormy, grey eyes follow the head honcho of the radio establishment. Jared takes the seat behind his mahogany desk.

"What can I do for you two agents?" Jared asks, his eyes scanning between the two of them.

One of the agents has cropped, brown hair, green eyes taking in Jared. He looks much more muscular than his partner sitting next to him.

"I'm Agent Smith," the man with the green eyes says and jerks his finger to his partner, "and this is my partner Agent Johnson."

The both show Jared their badges. They look legitimate. He hands them back to the agents and sits back in his chair.

"I repeat my question," Jared says, "what can I do for you?"

Agent Smith shifts in his chair and sits forward, "We're going around local businesses to see if there have been any recent thefts."

"Why?"

"It's preliminary," Agent Smith says, "Also, it's confidential."

"Sir," Agent Johnson leans forward, "We are currently following a criminal that's been moving statewide. The criminal and his partners have a certain M.O."

"What's the M.O.?"

The Agents share a look, debating whether to share information or not. Finally, Agent Smith turns to Jared. "They steal information on employees."

Agent Johnson watches Jared's face for any reaction. Jared lets out a breath and nods his head in understanding.

"Recently," Jared starts off, licking his lips in nervousness, "someone broke into the radio station."

The two agents wait patiently for him to continue, "It seemed as if someone ripped the office apart, trying to find something."

"Did they find something?" Agent Smith asks, his eyes following Jared's every movement.

He nods his head, "They only took one personnel file, and the others were thrown on the ground."

"Whose?" Agent Johnson asks.

A knock sounds on the door and Gale opens the door. She grimaces as she notices that Jared's in the office with two others.

"Sorry, Jared, I didn't know you were talking to the agents yet."

The two agents look back at the woman. Agent Smith's eyes widen as they scan Gale. Her eyes do the same thing, except when she looks at both of them. The look of 'oh shit' appears on her face, as all as Agent Smith's.

"What is it, Gale?" Jared asks, standing up and walking over to her.

"I was just leaving and wanted to ask if you were going to Kara's place for poker night on Saturday." Her eyes never leave the two agents. Jared tries to push her out the door.

"Yeah, I'm going," he says as he tries to usher her out. "I'll see you tomorrow Gale."

Gale leaves, with a final look over her shoulder. Jared closes the door and rubs his eyes. Agent Smith stands up and walks to Jared, standing in front of him.

"It's her, isn't it?" He asks.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

 **Hey look! I finally put up the third chapter! Okay, so I've been re-reading the previous chapters and I definitely need to do some editing, so I will be working on that as well as the other chapters, but I might put up the edited chapters after I finish this story. Anyways, leave a review and tell me how I'm doing. Opinions do matter, just saying. Now, ONWARD AND OFFWARD! Also, if you guys review, I might give you prize. Not sure what, but you will get one…a virtual one…well, let's go with metaphorical, shall we? I should also say, I don't own Imagine Dragons and the song _Hear Me.  
_**

* * *

Dean walks into the motel, tugging his tie off. Sam follows closely behind, carrying a bag of fast food. Throwing his tie on the ground, Dean flops onto his bed, face first. Setting down the bag of food, Sam takes a seat at the table. Now, it wasn't the _worst_ motel they've stayed at. The walls have wallpaper, which looks like someone took a handful of shit and just had fun finger painting. There isn't a really bad smell; it only comes out when you open the bathroom door. The brothers just tend to keep that closed…yeah, keeping that door closed. They'll just use the bathroom at the gas station that's around the corner. The carpet…they'll just leave their shoes on while they're in. Sure, they've seen worse, but it crunches when they walk on it, better be safe than sorry, right? However, the beds are fucking comfortable. The sheets smell surprisingly clean, like fresh air, and the best part: no weird stains! Dean thinks it's a win-win.

Sam takes out a salad and carefully takes the lid off. He picks up the plastic fork from inside the bag and pokes at the lettuce. The salad looks wilted and the vegetables…not so appetizing. He stabs a few lettuce leaves and closes his eyes. Maybe if he eats it without seeing it, it won't taste so bad. He put the "salad" in his mouth. _Nope. Nope. Fuck, no._ He spits it out and pushes the salad away.

"You know, Sammy," Dean says dragging his brother's attention, "You'd think after ten years of living like this, you would learn to _not_ order salads from places run with meat grease."

Sam rolls eyes his and throws Dean his bacon burger. He wipes his hands on a napkin, because wiping that grease stuff on black pants would mean new pants. "Just die of a heart attack already."

"I mean, if ye're going to die, it'll probably be from that," Maire says, popping in, sitting on the opposite bed. She has a new vessel this time. Red hair falls down her back and the boys could clearly count the freckles on her nose, if they tried. Golden eyes stare back at them, a slight twinkle in there.

"Visited Ireland?" Dean asks, motioning to her new form with his half eaten burger.

"Actually, this lass is from Vancouver," she looks down at herself.

"What happened to your last vessel?" Sam asks, taking out his laptop.

"I had to leave her body," Maire explains, walking over to Sam as he turns on his computer. "If I used anymore power in her, I would have killed her."

Dean nods his head as if he understands, "I hate it when vessels burn up."

Maire completely ignores him and looks over Sam's shoulder. "What are ye looking at?"

Sam looks up recent articles about mass shootings. A couple new articles show up. _I guess our guy has been a little busy for the past month,_ Sam thinks. It took the group, including Cas, to try to fine Gael. However, Cas was little to no help since whatever magic Gael was working on Maire was working on Cas as well. They tried her many different aliases, which Maire knew all of them, but none of them showed up. Maire then gave them a picture of her, which Sam asked Officer Mills to send through facial recognition. It took a while, running it through all the databases, but they finally got a hit. The last known photo of her was in a business photo from two years ago, somewhere in Montana. So, Maire just magically sent them to Montana and they followed the trail from there. With the Impala smashed to smithereens, they had to hot wire a car every now and again. Perks of the job, right?

"These are happening simultaneously," Sam says, scanning through some police reports that Mills also sent over. "How is he doing this?"

"Magic," Maire says, as if it is just that easy of an explanation.

"We found her," Dean interjects, wiping his hands on his pants, not really caring about them. "In case you were wondering."

"Where?" Dean has Maire's complete attention.

"Radio station," Dean says.

Maire waits, but Dean doesn't say anything more about it, "Hand me my fries."

Maire takes the bag and flings it at Dean's face. The bag smacks him with a satisfying sound and a look of amusement warms Maire's gold eyes. Dean grumbles to himself, saying some not nice things about the fucking Tree of Knowledge. Maire lifts an eyebrow, daring Dean to say what he's thinking out loud. He doesn't.

"She's doing fine," Dean says between handfuls of French fries. "But there is a slight problem."

"What slight problem?"

Dean darts his eyes over to his brother, who is making sure to not make eye contact. It isn't his turn to break bad news.

"What slight problem?" Maire's voice says the words slow, but they come out sharp.

Dean swallows the fries in his mouth, "Someone broke into her work and stole her personnel files. We think she might be the next victim."

Maire's eyes grow wide and her voice trembles, "No."

Her legs give out and she falls to the ground. She doesn't bother trying to catch herself. All she can focus on is the buzzing in her ears, green starting to take over her eyesight, and her heavy breathing. Dean and Sam both stand up, but not getting near her. Sam's the first to move towards her, his hand landing on her shoulder.

"Are you alright?" Sam asks her softly.

"I-I ha-have to find her," Maire says.

She grabs onto Sam's arm and uses him to pull herself up. Her eyes start to glow a strong, emerald green. Suddenly, her touch starts to burn Sam. He hisses and tugs his arm away from her. Sam looks at her, shaking his arm and watches as Maire's body starts to glow. It isn't a warm glow. It's hot, like lava burning its way out of a mountain. Reds, yellows, and oranges clash together, fighting to take over the body.

"Sam?" Dean asks, his arms out in self-defense, not that it will help if she explodes, but it comforts him to some degree.

Sam looks to Dean, throwing his hands up in the air, "I don't know what to do! How would I know how to calm down a goddess?"

A huge gasp leaves Maire's body, knocking Sam and Dean down. Maire's eyes roll up into her head and the body collapses. Sam and Dean look at her, waiting for her to go catatonic again. She doesn't. Dean crawls over and touches her with his shoe. Well, she isn't melting it, so that's a good sign. Sam rolls his eyes and crawls over to her. He touches her face and lets out a breath. She is cooling down. _Good._ Sam stands up and picks her up. He gently puts her on the bed.

"Son of a bitch," Dean says, standing up. "What the _hell_ was that?"

"How should I know Dean," Sam replies. "It almost seemed as if she was…burning up…literally."

Dean stands up and tugs his suit jacket, straightening out the kinks. He walks over to the door and throws it open. Sam follows him.

"Where are you going, Dean?" Sam latches onto his older brother's arm and makes Dean face him. "We need to figure this out!"

"Look at her, Sammy!" Dean tugs his arm out of Sam's grasp and swings it to Maire's direction. "The only person who knows what the fuck is going on is passed out! Without her, there's nothing to do right now! Might as well go to a bar and get some drinks. Maybe ask a few locals questions."

* * *

Unfortunately to Dean, he is stuck in a college town, where there weren't any dive bars. That's alright, the one he found kind of works for him. There's a bar and there's alcohol. It also doesn't hurt that there are very attractive women, who are checking him out. When he was younger, he would have gone along with that, but not now. Not now. Dean frowns into his shot glass. Unfortunately, it's Karaoke night at this particular bar. There are some bad singers and then there are drunken singers that sing way worse than those sober. He puts his glass down and motions to the bar tender, a big bear of man, for another shot of whiskey.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the announcer of the evening, "Introducing to an all time favorite, Miss Gale Thornton!"

Dean's head shoots up and there, on the stage, is Gael, being dragged onto the stage.

* * *

Gale forgets things easily. It's been a busy day. She had to do three recordings for upcoming shows, because she is planning on taking a trip, and she had to take the cat, which broke into her apartment, to the vet, then there was a meeting and she had to watch Netflix. It was a very busy day, which explains why she forgot Courtney's, a friend from work, birthday.

Now, she is at a bar and her gaggles of friends are trying to get her drunk enough to sing karaoke. She downs shot after shot and she starts feeling it after one of her friends shoves a rum and coke into her hands. She downs half of that and drunkenly wipes her mouth. She's a bit of a dribbler when drunk.

"Come on Gale," Courtney whines, trying her best at puppy dog eyes. "It's my birthday."

"I don't think I'm drunk enough." Sadly, for Gale at least, her Irish accent comes out when she's on the verge of drunkenness.

"Oh yes you are," Courtney says, she pulls on Gale's arm and drags her over to the guy, who is in charge of announcing songs and singers, and asks if her friend can be next.

Courtney takes a shot from one of her friends and shoves it in Gale's sort of limp hands. "For the nerves."  
The singer finally finishes his debauchery of Journey's _Don't Stop Believin'_ and the announcer has to shove the guy off the stage.

He plasters a smile to his face and says, "Ladies and gentlemen, introducing an all time favorite, Miss Gale Thornton!"

* * *

Gael is being dragged up the stage steps behind her friend. Her feet stumble as a foot misses the last step. Luckily her friend is there to catch her before she falls on her face. She may or may not have had a couple of drinks. Her friend grabs the microphone and puts her drunken mouth right up on it.

"She will singing SOS by Take That," she throws her hands up, the empty cup almost drops from her hand. "Let's do this shit!"

The crowd cheers as one of their favorite regular karaoke singers returns, which Dean assumes since the crowd is literally chanting her name.

Gael rolls her eyes and takes the microphone from her drunk friend. She pushes her friend off the stage and stands in the center of it. She looks up at the D.J. and she nods her head. The stage lights turn off. Everything is dark. The slow instrumental beginning starts and as soon as the words leave Gael's mouth, the stage lights turn on.

" _Save our souls we're splitting atoms_ ," with her eyes closed, Gael grabs the microphone and puts her mouth near it. " _Go tell Eve and go tell Adam. Liberate your sons and daughters. Some are gods and some are monsters."_

Gael's spring open and those eyes land directly on Dean. " _We'll get a five minute warning for divine intervention. With the satellites falling prepared for ascension. Under mind control. We'll be practicing our politics. Defending all our policies. Preparing for apocalypse."_

Dean watches as her hands releases the microphone. Her eyes don't move from him.

" _Don't let the hungry serpent see you_ ," the karaoke version plays the background vocals, " _No, no, no, no, no, no_."

" _She'll let you fall asleep then eat you whole._ " The stage lights start flashing and Gael places her pointer finger to her head and her thumb is pointing up, as if she's holding a gun to her head. _"It's like a bullet to the head._ " She makes a motion where she pulls the trigger. The stages lights start moving wildly around the stage and the audience. Gael clutches the microphone once more and she pulls it her and her rough, raspy voice belts, _"It's an SOS, it's an SOS, oh yes, oh yes, it's an SOS. It's an SOS, it's an SOS, like a bullet in the head, it's an SOS."_

Gael pulls the microphone out of its stand and starts walking to one end of the stage and leans down, as if she's talking to one person. But her eyes never leave Dean. It's eerie. Gael pulls the microphone out of it stand and starts walking to one end of the stage and leans down. " _When the levee breaks and Manhattan sinks, there won't be water fit to drink_." Her eyes never leave Dean as she gets back up and walks over to the other side and does the same thing. " _When the winter's warm and the summer's cold, the poison stops you looking old_." She walks back to the center of the stage, " _You'll get a five second warning for divine intervention and the satellites are falling prepare for ascension. As the Earth looks on. The odds or probability of losing all capacity to function it's hereditary."_

Gael places the microphone back in the stand. She lets go of the microphone and raises her arms. " _No antibiotic can save us now_."

 _No, no, no, no, no._

" _It's like a bullet to the head_ ," Her head jerks to the side. " _It's an SOS, it's an SOS, oh yes, oh yes, it's an SOS_." She pulls the microphone stand to her right, Dean's left, and her hair falls around her face. " _It's an SOS, it's an SOS, like a bullet in the head, it's an SOS_." She pulls the microphone to her left, Dean's right. " _It's an SOS, it's an SOS, like a bullet in the head, it's an SOS_." Gael bends her knees as she lowers herself to the ground, her face still looking down. " _It's an SOS, it's an SOS, oh yes, oh yes_." Gael stands up, taking the microphone with her. " _It's an SOS, it's an SOS, like a bullet in the head, it's an SOS_."

Gael is facing the crowd when the instrumental riff starts. She takes the microphone from the stand and jumps down from the stage. The audience parts, like the Red Sea, as she walks towards Dean. His eyes never leave hers, taking on the silent challenge she's handing to him.

" _Like a bullet in my head_ ," she puts the microphone up to her mouth and places her fingers back to her head. "Like a bullet in my head." She shifts her fake gun to Dean's head. To his surprise he flinches. She smirks. She doesn't pull the trigger, instead, she puts her "gun" down. She turns around and runs through the crowd.

" _It's an SOS, it's an SOS, oh yes, oh yes, it's an SOS_." Her free hand is in a fist and she pumps it up into the air, the crowd singing along with her. " _It's an SOS, it's an SOS, like a bullet in the head."_

She reaches the stage and a couple of guys in the crowd help her up to it, without her messing up the lyrics or her sounds. " _It's a SOS, it's an SOS, oh yes, oh yes, it's an SOS."_ She turns back to the audience and those old eyes land on Dean once more. " _It's an SOS, it's an SOS, like a bullet in the head_ ," she raises her "gun" up and aims it Dean's head, " _It's an SOS_." She pulls the trigger and the lights are killed. The song is over and the crowd is cheering, some are even repeating the lyrics.

Dean waits as the lights roll on and there's no one on stage. Dean stands up and looks around and spots the group of girls leaving by the door. Gael turns around and finds Dean. He's about to take a step forward, but she aims her fingers at him and he stays. She leaves the bar and Dean is standing in an overzealous crowd, begging for an encore.

Dean is trying to make sense of what happened. He looks down and over to his empty glass and then it hits him. She knows. She knows who he is and she knows why he's here. She knows their past and how everything just broke down. She knows about the shootings. She has to. Dean looks over to the door, but she's already gone. Dean slams down a fiver and pushes himself through the crowd.

Sam and Dean need to find her. Now.

* * *

Agent Johnson and Agent Smith stand outside of the radio station. They're both leaning against the brick wall, waiting. A nice silver, Nissan Versa drives up into the parking lot and pulls into an empty spot. The car turns off and a minute passes by until the door opens and out comes Jared. He's taking out a jacket and a messenger's bag, which he slings over his shoulder. He slams the door shut and walks over to the front door. He stops in his tracks when he notices the agents.

"Morning," Agent Smith says with a smirk, as he pulls away from the brick wall.

Jared sighs. "Morning officers."

He takes out his keys and they jingle as he unlocks the doors. He walks in and holds the doors open for them. Smith and Johnson enter and they step off to the side as Jared walks into his office.

"How can I help you this morning, officers?" Jared says, not really wanting to deal with them.

"We need to talk to Gale Thornt-" before Agent Smith could get a word out, Agent Johnson slightly steps on Smith's foot.

"What my partner and I were wondering," Agent Johnson's glare from his partner moves smoothly over to Jared, changing it to a look of concern, "if we would be able to interview Miss Thornton."

"About what?" Jared asks skeptically. He watches as the agents share a look.

"About the robbery, not that she would know who did it," Agent Johnson says quickly, "but just to ask her if she might know why someone would want her folder."

Jared chews on the inside of his cheek. He doesn't trust these officers. Sure, he called the number they gave him and the person in charged assured him that they were part of the bureau…but there is something about them…something that doesn't sit right with him.

"You can be there for the interview if you would like," Agent Johnson suggests, noticing the way Jared is trying to come to a decision.

Jared looks between the agents and doesn't miss the eye roll that Agent Smith did.

Jared nods his head, "Alright, you can interview her, but I have to call her in. She isn't working today."

"Thank you," Agent Johnson says, ushering his partner out of the office.

"Yeah, thanks," Agent Smith says sarcastically.

Jared watches as they close the door behind them and he picks up the phone. He dials a number and listens to it ring. Finally, they answer.

"Yes, it's Jared," he says, watching the door intensely, "It's about Gale

* * *

 **Okay, I changed the ending to this chapter because the way it ended before...it bugged me. It didn't really feel like Gael and it wouldn't stop eating at me. I just...I just had to fix it. If you like this ending more, let me know, I would appreciate it. Also, this does not count as a chapter. I'm currently working on the other two as we speak, so expect two chapters this week! Thanks for reading! AND LEAVE A REVIEW!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

 **So, I didn't have to work today, because my shift got cancelled. WHOO! So I thought I would write this for you. Once more, I'm kind of breaking away from the other characters, to give them a break, because they too get exhausted. Also, there's a new name that you must learn how to read: Dubhlainn =** _ **Dove-lin**_ **. Anyways, I don't know if I'll be able to post another chapter this week since I'll be pulling double shifts at both jobs, but I'll let you know. Anyways, LEAVE A REVIEW PLEASE! ONWARD AND OFFWARD!**

* * *

 _The tree watches as the small bundle wiggles around. Its face scrunches and its fists tighten as it brings them up to its face. Peacefulness is short lived. The little bundle starts to whine and cry. The sound starts off small, but it starts to grow, its small limbs flailing wildly. The tree is wildly impressed by the small bundle's strong screams, but the sound also terrifies it. Someone might hear her. Someone might find her and take her. Or something. The crown of the tree rustles in the wind, as if to rid itself of those thoughts._

 _Ciúin anois, ceann beag._ Quiet now, little one.

 _A leaf falls from the tree and gently lands on the bundle's cheek and slides down, a gentle stroke. A calming, tender stroke to null the bundle's noise. But it doesn't work. The bundle still screams and the wrap around it is starting to unravel. Leaves start to fall around the bundle, as if it is weeping._

 _Le do thoil, mo ghrá._ Please, my love.

Snap. Rustle. Rustle.

 _The branches perk up. The bundle cries louder. The tree readies itself. The wind picks up its pace and the leaves lift and swirl around the tree and the bundle. Bushes rustle more as something tumbles its way out from them. The leaves still, staying in place in the air. The small specimen stands up and wipes itself off. Its fur is curly and black, growing long below its ears. It has this brown thing around its small body that just touches above its knees. Its eyes look up at the twisted tree and its warm, brown eyes widen. It stakes a step forward._

 _The leaves start swirling again. Faster and faster. Drowning out the noise of the bundle._

 _Fág. Anois._ Leave. Now.

 _The small specimen takes a small step forward and points to the small bundle._

 _"Tá sé ocras."_ It's hungry.

 _The leaves stop in the air and point at the small specimen. It turns around and runs off, back into the woods. The leaves stay as the tree waits for the small specimen to come back. It doesn't. The leaves fall to the ground as the small bundle whimpers. Its face red with screaming._

 _Time goes by and the sun drifts down behind the trees and mountains, light fading, but still strong enough to streak through empty spaces. The trees watches sadly as the small bundle grows more quiet. The branches lower themselves and more leaves fall._

 _Tá mé chomh leithscéal._ I'm so sorry.

 _Tá mé chomh brón orm, mo ghrá._ I'm so sorry, my love.

Rustle, rustle.

 _Once more, the branches perk up and out tumbles the small specimen. It's carrying something in its hands. It holds out a basket. The tree leans forward and spies some mashed food. The tree leans back and allows the small specimen to go near the tiny bundle. The small specimen picks up the bundle and digs around in the basket. It pulls out a cloth ball and opens it. The small specimen starts putting the mash in the bundle's mouth and a small squeal of happiness escapes from the small bundle._

 _The tree smiles and relaxes._

 _Go raibh maith agat._ Thank you.

 _The small specimen nods its head. "Cad a hainm?"_ What's her name?

 _Gael._

 _"Gael," the small specimen whispers._

 _It rocks the bundle back and forth. The bundle snuggles its face into the specimen's chest and lets out a small content sigh. The tree waits for a time._

 _Cad is ainm duit?_ What is your name?

" _Dubhlainn."_

* * *

The long, red haired witch stands, waiting in the large den. It's a stone, cold of a place and it doesn't suit her. She prefers high quality and high class accommodations, but he prefers it here. Her long, tight, black dress drags along the stone ground as she paces back and forth. He should be here by now. Where is he? She doesn't have to wait long when she hears footsteps from outside. The doors bang open into the cold room and he struts in.

She whips around to face him, "Where the hell have ye been?"

The man waves off her sneer and sits down in on one of the couches. Dust billows up and around him.

"Taking care of business," he says.

She stalks over to him, taking up his personal space. "Anymore of takin' care of business, and we'll be caught before we do anythin'!"

"Settle, Rowina," the man says, her body lurches away from him and slams against the wall.

He stalks his way up to her, as if she is prey and him a predator. She watches him carefully, calculating each of his steps. He gets close enough that their noses are almost touching.

"You think I would jeopardize the plan of my savior," he says the last word mockingly. "Oh ye of so little faith."

"I pulled ye out of that hole," Rowina whispers, "I can put ye back in it."

The threat is clear and cut. She watches him for a reaction and gets it when the corner of his eye twitches. She hides her victorious smile, but savors it. His black eyes scan her face, but she doesn't flinch. He smirks and takes a step back.

"Of course you can, dear," he says, a mere snarl twists his mouth, "But you're only alive because I allow it."

Rowina takes the chance. Her clutched hands open up and a blast of raw power throws him against the opposite side of the wall. The lack of concentration sets her free and she lands on her feet. She strides up to him and leans forward, putting a finger underneath her chin.

"Just because ye have a lot of power," she says, quiet softly, "Doesn't mean ye know how ta use it."

She stands up straight again and releases him. Watching him cautiously, he chuckles as he stands back up. Rowina knew what she was doing when she released the Darkness. The book gave her the exact information she needed. After all, it wasn't that hard to trick two moronic humans, a weakened angel, a demon who had mommy issues. However, she read in the book that harnessing that immense amount of power would burn her up. She needed someone, a vessel, that was hand created by the power itself. However, she didn't expect him to be such a problem; also, simple manipulation isn't going to get her what she wants. She needs more power.

The man sits back down on the old couch and spreads his arms along the back of it. He leans his head back and lets out a content sigh. Rowina folds her arms in impatience. She knows he has information, but she also knows that he loves to make her wait. He motions his hand, saying that she can sit down next to him. She walks over to the dusty, dirty couch. She wipes it off with her hand and carefully sits near the edge.

"I've found her," he mumbles.

Rowina doesn't have to ask who. She already knows. It is their mission to find her.

"Have ye killed her yet?" She asks.

He opens his eyes and those black, empty pupils stare at her. "No."

He closes them again and relaxes. "She's not all…there yet."

Rowina waits a beat, knowing he isn't finished.

Finally, he says with a dark, cruel smile, slowly cracking along his face, "I always play with my food first."

* * *

 **Okay, so I was _not_ happy with the last chapter I wrote. I shouldn't even have put it up, but I promised a chapter and I gave you guys something shitty and I'm sorry. You deserve better than that. My intention was not to diminish the power of Rowina, 'cause let's face it, she's pretty fucking baddass and I'm sorry I took away her badassery. Anyways, me fixing this and being _a lot_ more happy with it, I hope you guys enjoy this editing. I do promise, that sort of thing won't happen again. Thank you for reading my story and you guys deserve better than that shit. Anyways, I'm almost done with the second chapter for this week, and it's not a piece of shit. At least...I don't think so...  
**


	8. Chapter 8

**Okay you guys, here's the next chapter. Also, good news, my other job is ending, since it was only for the summer, bad news my last semester of school is starts. But good news, IT'S MY LAST SEMESTER! WOOT WOOT! Anyways, please leave a review. I want you guys to tell me what you think. And if you don't want me knocking on doors to tell people about the wonder and love of fanfiction, than I suggest you send a review. now, ONWARD AND OFFWARD!  
**

 **Chapter 8**

Sam and Dean have already interviewed some of Gael's co-workers and the only thing Dean has to say is that they are one _colorful_ group. He looks down at his small notepad that has everyone's names and little blurbs about the individuals.

Kara: kind of on the tall side, loud voice, has a battery collection (she pulled them out of her purse when she wanted a piece of gum. Sam thought it was interesting), also she's one of their accountants.

Courtney: super short (maybe 5 foot), has eyes that take up half her face, and likes to steal bar glasses (she remembered Dean from the bar and pulled it out to show it off…), also she's a reporter.

Martin: wears glasses from the seventies, loves sci-fi, is a conspiracy theorist (Dean accidentally mentioned something alien related. He asked if Dean would like to see his notes. Seriously) also he's a board operator.

Jared: the douche, bossy, his eyes twitch (could be a tell) , wears a weird cologne (Dean actually liked the smell of it, but he wasn't going to ask about it, goddammit) also he's the general manager/owner of the radio station.

There were a couple more people they interviewed, but since it's the weekend, they use pre-recordings of all the reporters and "on-air personalities", which is the category that Gael falls under, so that people who have to talk on-air can take a break. The general consensus of Gael was that she's "really nice" and "she's quiet, but she eventually warms up to people" and that she "likes to keep to herself" most of the time and that she's sarcastic…all the time. However, now Sam and Dean are both stuck in the conference room with a projector, a white board, and a eight chairs surrounding the long and wide table. The walls are painted the same, warm brown colors, and there are a couple of pictures of the people who work there, maybe to commemorate some of the people that used to work there.

Dean looks up at the clock to check the time. It's almost one and Dean is _fucking_ hungry. He taps his foot impatiently. Sam places a hand on top of Dean's leg to make him stop.

"Just give her a couple more minutes, dude," Sam says, slightly irritated himself.

"We've been waiting for thirty minutes Sam. Thirty minutes!" Dean crosses his arms, pouting. "I need fuel."

Sam rolls his eyes and smiles. However, he drops his smile and comes to attention when the door opens. In comes a woman with her hair pulled back into a messy bun, hair stragglers falling into her face. She's wearing a tank-top, with an oversized flannel, and baggy shorts. She trips on her way to a chair from across the brothers.

"Son of a bitch," She mutters as she pulls out the chair and sits. "Sorry."

Tired, blue/green hazel eyes turn to them. She looks completely exhausted with the black bags under her eyes.

"Miss Thornton?" Sam asks tentatively.

She raises her hand, as if she is in a classroom doing roll call. "Gale. Call me Gale."

"Gale," Dean says slowly, not wanting to scare her off, "Did you have a fun night last night?"

Gale's eyes sharpen and glare into Dean. "How can I not have a fun night with three shots of vodka, two tequilas, a long island ice tea, coke and rum, oh and let's not forget the whiskey shall we?"

Dean's jaw drops, "There's, like, six different types of alcohol in a long island…how the hell are you even alive?"

Sam looks between the two of them. "Wait, you already know each other?"

Dean nods his head and smirks when he sees Gael rubbing her eyes, "Yeah, she sort of serenaded me last night."

Gale does her best attempt at an eye roll, but grimaces at the movement. "What do you two want?"

"Well, I'm agent Johnson and this is Agent Smith," Sam starts to introduce, but she cuts him off.

"I know you're not FBI agents," she says looking at the two of them. "I know who you are. Now what the fuck do you want?"

Angry. He is _so fucking angry_. Dean slams the motel door open and stomps into the room. A tired Sam follows after him carrying: four bags of food (all for Dean), a case of beer, oh and of course pie. Apple pie.

Sam carefully kicks the door close and walks over to the table and drops everything onto it. Dean doesn't give a shit about the crunchy carpet and kicks his shoes off. Sure, they don't come off after the second or third try, but Dean can be pretty damn persistent when Dean wants to be. And right now, Dean wants to punch something. Kick something. Just _yell_ at something. Or someone.

* * *

"Who the _hell_ does she think she is?" Dean yells, as he rips the constraining tie from around his neck. "Telling us to shove our request up our asses! I'll tell her what she can shove up her ass!"

"Dean," Sam says in that tone of voice that makes his brother stop. Sam shakes his head, making sure that he doesn't go any farther than that.

"Oh come on Sammy!" Dean says, throwing his suit jacket across the room. "She said she felt no obligation, whatsoever, to helping us!" Dean throws his arms wide, as if to bring everything together, "the _world_ out! Who the hell does that?!"

Sam shakes his head and sighs as he sits down on his bed. He rubs his eyes. "I don't know, Dean."

Dean's pacing their room, with his hands on his hips. He's just so angry. Sam just watches him. He knows Dean is pissed about Gael rejecting them, saying that she didn't want any part of this.

 _"Look the Darkness got out and it needs to be put back in," Dean explains, "and Maire needs you to do that."_

 _Gael looks confused. "The Darkness got out? How?"_

 _Dean and Sam look at each other. Rage starts to fill up those once tired eyes._

 _"How did it get out?" Her voice is low, quiet, but that doesn't hide the anger very well._

 _"We broke the curse of the Mark of Cain," Sam says quietly._

 _"You did what!" She stands up from her chair. Her body is physically shaking from the anger._

 _"You IDIOTS!" She yells at them. "What the_ hell _were you thinking? Oh that's right, you two probably weren't. Damn Winchesters can never seem to think things through, can you?"_

 _Sam and Dean watch her fall back into her chair._

 _"You done?" Dean asks, but it's the sort of tone you use with a child that's throwing a temper tantrum._

 _Gael's eyes glare at him. "I don't know, are you two?"_

Anyways, that whole thing could have gone better, without Dean yelling at Gael about responsibility and Gael telling him she's not cleaning up his fucking mess. Sam tried to go after her, but she just disappeared.

"We're going to have to protect her," Sam says quietly.

Dean falls on top of his bed, his mattress sort of bouncing at the sudden weight. He groans and rolls over to his side and mutters something like "I don't wanna."

"Responsibility, Dean."

* * *

 _The Tree watched as the small bundle grew into something…beautiful. She is about the same height as Dubhlainn was when she first saw him. Dubhlainn has taught Gael many things, like how to shoot a bow, he had made her a small one to practice with as well as arrows, make clothing from linens he brings, how to cook her food, and many more. The tree watches on as he's teaching her how to dance. Its Gael is clumsy, tripping over her own feet, but she holds onto Dubhlainn's hands to try to remain steady. They laugh._

 _Time leaves them as the sun falls below the tree tops and the moon rises to take its place in the night sky. It is time, now, for Dubhlainn to leave, but he gives the tree's Gael a light kiss on the cheek in farewell. Gael watches as he leaves and once his form disappears into the bushes and trees, she walks over to the tree. She leans back against its trunk and closes her eyes._

" _Crann,"_ Tree.

 _Sea, mo ghrá._ Yes, my love.

" _An bhfuil tú ainm?"_ Do you have a name?

 _The Tree's crown of leaves wave in the air, almost as if it is shaking its head. Gael opens her eyes and she looks up, expecting a pair to look back. All she sees is two different barks twining together, as if a hand has twisted them together. A branch lowers itself and a leaf falls and gently touches her cheek. She leans her head against the trunk once more and closes her eyes._

" _Ar mhaith leat ceann?"_ Would you like one?

 _Ainm ?_ A name?"

 _Gael nods her head. The tree allows itself to think on it. A name? Did it want one? After a while, the tree agrees, it would love to have a name. It is a gift from Gael. To have a name, freely given, is a gift._

 _Sea, ba mhaith liom._ Yes, I would.

 _Gael twerks her mouth, as she is thinking. Then, a small smile breaks across her face. "Maire. Máthair Maire."_ Maire. Mother Maire.

 _Maire_ , _the tree thinks to itself as Gael falls asleep against it. An invisible warmth surrounds Gael as she sleeps. The tree plays with the word, over and over again. If the Tree could smile, it would._

 _Maire, it thinks once more. Finally, the Tree thinks, I have been claimed._


	9. Chapter 9

**Okay, sorry this is so late. I haven't been sleeping, much, and I've been working at both jobs. Also, hitting a writer's block wall happened, but I worked through it. If this seems forced, it's because it is not going to lie to you there. Um, there may not be another chapter this week, but I'm working on that right now, so let's see what happens shall we? Also, please leave a review! But if you don't want to, then send me a PM, any criticism is good criticism at this point. Anyways, ONWARD AND OFFWARD!**

 **Chapter 9**

Gale is standing in her kitchen, cleaning dishes. She's been listening to Bruno Mars _Uptown Funk_ , because, honestly, it's the best song to do dishes to. She's mouthing the words to herself and doing the little dance during the chorus. She's bobbing her head to the music when a knocking takes her out of her chore. She rinses off the bowl and puts it in the dish drainer. She turns around and walks over to her door. Of course, she can't do that without tripping over the cat.

"God damnit Cat," she curses softly, as the orange fur-ball hunches its back and slinks away. Watching him slink away, she's pretty sure that he was smirking at her.

She looks through the peep hole and doesn't see anyone. She shrugs, thinking they probably walked off and starts to turn around.

 _Knock. Knock._

Gale turns around and just looks at the door. She isn't planning on anyone coming over and usually Jared would call or text first before coming over. Her face destroys any emotion that might show on her face. She clasps at the necklace that hangs just to her ribcage. She feels power course through her. She answers the door.

* * *

"Dean, are you sure about this?" Sam asks, all fidgety as they stand in front of the door.

Dean rolls his eyes, "Stop being a girl, Sammy. It's not like you're picking a girl up for a date."

That doesn't stop Sam from looking around the dinky apartment complex. There's a massive crack down the wall that was shoddily fixed. The paint is peeling from, well, everywhere and there is a dog that keeps barking in the apartment behind them.

"Dog doesn't sound nice," Sam comments.

"Would you be nice if you lived in a dump like this?" Dean asks, knocking on the door once more.

"We're currently staying in a dump like this, Dean."

Dean takes a second to think to on that and turns a shocked look to his brother. He opens his mouth to say something, but quickly closes. Hell, Sam isn't wrong.

To ignore the smug face that is Sam's, Dean continues knocking on the door. A door does open, but it's the one behind them. The one with a loud, barking dog. The two brothers turn to look back and see a huge, black Great Dane. Its head is low and a soft growl moves from deep in its throat.

"Good doggie?" Dean attempts but when the dog barks, Dean hides behind Sam and pushes him in front.

"Back Hades," a voice commands. A short, stub of a man, with a white tank top and basketball shorts, yanks the dog back.

Sam can't help but stare at the man's fuzzy head. He's almost bald, but it looks like his hair is trying its damnedest to stay. Dean smirks.

"What do you want?" The man asks, keeping the dog quiet and still at his side.

"We're here to see the person that lives here, Gale?" Sam offers his hands up in surrender. "Gale Thornton?"

The man scrunches his face in confusion. It made him look even more pug like. "What? No one lives there."

"What?" Dean asks, stepping out from behind Sam. "I thought Jared said this is where she lived?

"No one has lived there for over a year, something about a gas leak or some shit like that," the man mumbles.

The brothers look at each other. Son of a bitch.

* * *

Gale opens the door and there stands Jared. He takes a look at her shorts and an over-sized shirt and raises an eyebrow.

"Dishes?" He asks with a quirk of his mouth.

Her face immediately softens and her fists unclench, almost like she's ready for a fight. She lets go of the breath she's been holding and allows him in. She looks behind him, to make sure there isn't a surprise attack. Jared places his messenger bag on her couch. He still can't fathom how empty the apartment looks, even though she's been living there for about two years. She has a couch, a living-room table; empty cardboard boxes stashed away in a cupboard, little dishes and cook ware, and a bed and dresser in her room. It's like she's ready to leave in a moment's notice.

"Why didn't you call?" Gale asks as she walks into the kitchen. She comes out with two glasses of water and sits down next to him. Well, she kicks Cat off first."You usually do."

"I didn't know if my calls were being monitored," he answers. "I wanted to be safe."

Gale turns to him and her eyes bore into him. She keeps looking at him as she takes a sip. She's waiting for him to continue. He knows she doesn't like to push.

"The FBI agents," Jared supplies, "they asked for your address."

Jared immediately sees Gale draw into herself and shut down. She wiggles in her spot and stares down into her glass. Jared wants to reach out his hand, but he knows she wouldn't allow it.

"I didn't give it to them," he says. "I told them they needed a warrant."

Relief washes over her and she slumps forward slightly. She looks up at him and gives him a small smile.

"Thank you," she says.

She quickly gets up and walks into the kitchen. "Are you hungry?" She yells, making sure he can hear her. "I can whip something up real quick."

Jared walks in behind her as she taking out pots and pans, trying to decide what one she wants to use.

"It's late," he says and she turns around. "I should probably go."

Gale opens her mouth, like she's about to say something.

 _Knock, knock._

Jared looks at the door as does Gale. He turns to her and she shakes her head. Jared doesn't know too much about her past, but he knows enough to understand that she's flighty.

They wait.

 _Knock. Knock. Knockknockknockknock._

The insistent pounding forced Jared to move and swing the door open, not bothering to look through the peephole.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

* * *

So, being the responsible and caring hunters that they are, Sam and Dean go back to the radio station, break in, look into a certain individual's file and find just what they're looking for. Dean and Sam are standing in front of another apartment door, a little better looking than the first one, but still a crap shoot. At least, they hope it's the real address this time. Dean puts his hand up and knocks. Sam and Dean wait a couple of beats until Dean starts knocking again, insistently this time.

The door is yanked open and Jared stands there, glaring at them. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Sam gives the man a small wave, but Dean gives him his smart-ass smirk and says, "Could be asking you the same thing."

Gael steps from behind Jared and stands next to him. Her voice is hard and clipped. "What do you want?"

"We need to talk," Dean says as he steps forward, but Jared moves in front of him.

"I don't think so," Jared snarls.

"Look," Sam says as he pulls Dean back, "we just want to talk."

"You're not going to leave, are you?" She asks, but she's only voicing it for confirmation.

"No," Sam says. "But we just want to talk, that's all."

"Fine."

"Gale!" Jared starts, but Gael stops him with her words.

"You should go, Jared," she says, her eyes staying on the brothers. "I'll be fine."

Jared walks back to the couch and picks up his messenger bag. He stops next to her and says, "If you need me, call me alright?"

Gael smiles at him. "Of course."

They look at each other for a couple more minutes, as if having a secret conversation.

Dean clears his throat. "Can we talk now?" He asks, interrupting them. He pushes his way in.

Jared gives Gael a small peck on her check and leaves.

* * *

Once the door closes behind the fake agents, Jared pulls out his phone and dials a number. It rings once, then twice, then three times.

"Hello?"

"They found her," Jared says, as he walks down the stairs. "What now?"

Silence.

"I guess we'll have to take care of them, won't we Mr. Browne?"

"Yes sir," Jared says, and then stops. He doesn't want to ask, but he has to. "What of Gale, sir?"

"In due time, Mr. Browne. In due time."

 _Click. Beep. Beep. Beep._


	10. Chapter 10

**Okay, so...umm...I think some of you guys have thought that the latest chapter was going to be the last...well...it's not. I am way too invested in this to stop now and writing this is helping me clear up my writer's block. However, for this story, I don't know how many more chapters are left but I'm really trying not to rush it too much. I don't want this to be 50 chapters long, because, lets admit it, that's a lot of chapters for a fan-fiction. Granted, there are some that are way over that, but still. Anyways, LEAVE ME A REVIEW OR A COMMENT OR A PM! Let me know where you think the story is going or where you would like the story to go. Not that I'm going to change the direction of story, because it is steadily going to down the track I've planned, it's going stubbornly, but it's still going. ANYWAYS! ONWARDS AND OFFWARDS!**

* * *

 **Chapter 10**

 _Gael and Dubhlainn lay down in the grass, staring up at the blue, blue sky framed by the swaying tree tops. Yellow and purple flowers twirl as the wind gently plays with them. Gael's long, blond hair fans out beneath her as does the linen skirt of her dress. She hears the grass crunch as Dubhlainn moves. He crawls and lies down next to Gael, their hands by each other, but not touching. Gael turns her head and looks at Dubhlainn. He has grown into something handsome and she outlines the profile of his face with her eyes. His wild, curly locks of brown hair have only grown wilder. His big, brown eyes have only deepened in color. From the slope of his forehead down to the sharp edge of his jaw, is a fine line to follow._

 _Dubhlainn feels her eyes on him and he turns toward her. A smile slides across his face as his eyes catches hers. Those blue, green hazel eyes widen in surprise. She isn't as sneaky as she thought she is._

" _Gael," he says, turning onto his side._

 _She mimics his motion and lays her head on her arm._

" _Dubhlainn," she says back._

 _He needs to tell her. He doesn't have much time until his father comes looking for him. He has reached marriageable age and as the son of the chief of his clan, he has responsibility. He has to tell her._

" _Ní bheidh mé in ann cuairt a thabhairt duit i bhfad níos faide,"_ I won't be able to visit you much longer.

" _Cén fáth nach?"_ Why not? _She asks. She is a few years younger than him and still so innocent._

" _Mar gheall ar,"_ Becasuse _he begins, but falters. He catches his breath and starts again. "Mar tá mé a bheith ag fear."_ Because I am to be wed.

 _Her eyebrows scrunch together, piecing the information together._

" _Tá níos mó de tú."_ There are more of you. _It's a statement, not a question. She was never sure there were more people like them._

 _Dubhlainn nods, "Go leor eile."_

 _Her eyes widen. "A domhan ar fad níos mó," she whispers._ A whole world more.

 _Dubhlainn nods once more, "Tá mé a dhéanamh mianach amháin agus mé, dá cuid."_ I am to make one mine and I, hers.

 _Her eyes search his face, trying to look for something. She's not sure what and neither is he._

" _Ach nach mian leat a."_ But you don't wish to.

 _Dubhlainn shakes his head. He takes a deep breath; the next thing he says must come out right._

" _Tá mé aimsithe duine éigin mian liom mianach a dhéanamh,"_ I have found someone I wish to make mine. _His eyes look down as he pulls at the grass. "Ach níl a fhios agam más mian sí go liom a bheith dá cuid."_ But I don't know if she wishes that I be hers.

 _Gael puts a hand on his fidgeting ones. He looks up and there, on her face is a sad smile._

" _Ba chóir duit insint di,"_ You should tell her. _She whispers. She takes her hand away._

" _Ba chóir dom?"_ Should I?

" _Ar ndóigh."_ Of course.

 _Gael returns to lie on her back, her arm underneath her head. The hand nearest Dubhlainn is lying in the grass and the fingers gently pull at it. Dubhlainn also returns to lying on his back, but now he is closer to her. The hand closest to Gael inches closer until his fingers barely brushes hers._

 _She doesn't look at him. She also doesn't pull away._

 _Dubhlainn takes that as a positive sign and takes a hold of her hand. He holds his breath, waiting for something. Her hand is cold, but it slowly warms in his. He grips her hand tighter, wishing he isn't forcing her to accept him._

 _She pulls her hand out of his. Dubhlainn sucks in more air, not sure what to do now. He feels a pain in his chest, like someone is trying to rip through it. A cooler hand moces his, so his palm is facing up. He looks over and sees Gael place her hand in his, their fingers intertwining together._

" _Mothaíonn níos fearr ar an mbealach seo,"_ Feels better this way. _She whispers, a slight blush creeping up her neck to her cheeks._

" _A dhéanann sé,"_ It does. _Dubhlainn whispers back. His blush responding to hers in kind._

 _He counts the seconds until he says something again. "Gael," he begins, but before he can get anything out, he feels soft lips on his cheek. He turns his head and his brown eyes widen, surprise all over his face._

" _An mbeidh tú mianach?"_ Will you be mine? _She asks, her eyes turn to the grass, feeling too embarrassed to look at him. "An féidir liom a bheith mise?"_ Can I be yours?

 _Dubhlainn doesn't say anything. He takes his free hand and lays it gently on her cheek. He leans in and softly kisses her._

" _I gcónaí."_ Always. _He whispers as he pulls away. Their foreheads touch and they both smile._

* * *

Sam and Dean sit on the couch, while Gael sits in a chair across from them. A table is between them, a sort of barrier. She's fidgety. Her eyes keep glancing around the room, never standing still. Her fingers keep playing with a free thread that has unraveled itself from the hem of her shirt. Dean notices the necklace around her neck. There's a circle, of what looks like two different types of wood, and a metal tree above it. The metal doesn't really look like metal. There's an emerald green shine to it when the light hits it right. Gael follows Dean's eyes and grabs onto it.

"You wanted to talk?" She says, putting the necklace inside of her shirt.

An orange tabby cat saunters up to Gael and jumps up on her lap. The cat kneads her legs, not using it claws, and curls up in her lap. She pets the orange fur-ball.

"You have a cat?" Dean asks, sort of surprised. He didn't expect someone with an empty apartment to have a cat.

"It broke into my apartment," she explains. She still pets the cat and looks up at them. "You wanted to talk," she repeats herself.

"Yeah," Sam starts, stopping his brother from saying anything else, "and we wanted to apologize for what happened at the radio station."

Gael nods her head and she thinks about what to say next, "I suppose I should apologize too. I kind of lost my temper."

Dean snorts. Sam cuts his eyes to Dean and tries to send his brother a mental message to shut up.

"It probably didn't help that we cornered you," Sam says, "Anyways, we're sorry."

"Let's call it even," she says, giving Sam a small smile. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Well," Sam says, trying to think of a way to say this, "we found your goddess and she's looking for you."

"Goddess?" She asks, confusion plain as day on her face. "What goddess?"

Dean and Sam look at each other and then back to Gael.

"Maire," Dean supplies. "How many goddesses have you been a vessel to?"

"None," Gael says, "and Maire isn't a goddess."

"What?" Dean asks, "Yes she is."

"No she's not."

"But," Dean tries to stop the quick thoughts from interrupting his attempt at talking. "She has a shit ton of power, doesn't that just, I don't know, make her one?"

"No," Gael says. She stops petting the cat and puts it down. It looks like she's getting ready for a speech. "Gods and goddesses require followers of a religion: cult, pagan, Christian, Hindu, Islam, etc. Have you found any texts about Maire?"

Sam shakes his head, "No. The only information she gave us freely is that she's the tree of knowledge. Which every culture has, but they don't necessarily worship it."

"When God locked up the Darkness, he gave Maire a place on the Earth he created," Gael explains, "He wanted her to help his creatures to thrive on the gift he had given him. So, he made a home for her, in a tree. Her roots grew long and they traveled far. She was able to use the roots to travel from new civilization to civilization. She was there when they needed guidance on how to survive."

"You mean to say," Dean puts his hand up to stop her, to make sure he's understanding, "that she could travel around the world by using tree roots?"

"Of course," Gael says, as if that's the most normal thing in the world. "Whenever a new civilization appeared, so would a tree. So no, she's not a goddess and don't let her hear you call her that."

"Why?" Sam asks.

"The other gods and goddesses have tried to obtain her power to be the one, main powerful being. Also, she doesn't approve of rituals in order to gain more power. She believes that human lives are worth more than that."

"Then how is she so powerful?" Dean asks. Sam nudges him in the shoulder and gives him the bitch-face that he is renowned for. "What? I'm curious."

"Through knowledge," Gael says with a shrug. "She has learned all there is to know about magic, even teaching a few witches, and helping create communities for them."

"Knowledge is power," Sam whispers.

Gael nods. "But this isn't what you came here for," her eyes switch between Dean and Sam. "What do you two want?"

"We need you to become Maire's vessel again," Dean says, as if it's the simplest thing in the world. "So that we can stop the Darkness and fix the world."

"I believe I already told you no," her voice is even and calm, but there is a hint of frustration in there.

"We know," Sam says, sending another mental _shut up, Dean_ to his brother. "But we need your help and Maire can't do it unless you're with her. Please?"

Gael sighs and looks down at her hands and thinks. They wait a few minutes, giving her the time she needs. Finally, she looks up at them, resolve in her eyes.

"No," she says. "Letting the Darkness is your mess. You two clean it up. I've sacrificed enough the last time it got out."

"Wait, wait, wait," Dean says, his hand waving as if to stop the words coming out. "What do you last time? I thought the Mark of Cain was the only way it could get out?"

"Don't be so stupid," Gael says, the words not coming out harsh. "There are three other keys out there."

"Where are the other keys?" Dean asks.

"I don't know," Gael answers, rubbing the spot between her eyebrows.

"How did it get out?" Sam asks, his eyes searching her face for some kind of clues. She stops rubbing the spot and makes her face neutral.

"A chieftain wanted more power. A dark witch told him how to get it and he got it. He sacrificed his son's soul for it and I locked it up."

"How long ago was this?" Sam asks, since Dean is trying to process everything.

"About fifteen hundred years ago."

"But that doesn't make sense," Sam says, "I've looked through lore and historical texts and not one said anything about it being released."

Gael's eyes level with Sam's and says in a detached voice. "That's because I killed everyone." Her eyes move between the brothers. "Are we done here?"

* * *

 **P.S. Have you guys heard of the Sci-fi show _Roar_? It stars a young Heath Ledger, with a bad accent, and it's actually, kind of good. Anyways, I was looking up Celtic lore and shit and then this show popped up AND I TOTALLY FORGOT IT EXISTED! Anyways, you guys should check it out!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello people, I hope you're having a decent week of school, I kind of am that's for sure. I'm actually really excited for the next chapter, that you guys might get three! THREE! HOLY SHIT YOU GUYS! Anyways, I've actually been doing research, like I wen to the library to read through books, because I wanted to be as authentic as I could be. So, I read three books today, or skimmed them, whatever, and my brain kind of hurts, but Celtic history is amazing, with the many tribes and shit. If you guys want to know anything, whether it'd be Germanic, Scottish, Gaelic, or Welsh, shoot me a message! I'd be happy to answer any questions. Okay, enough rambling. ONWARD AND OFFWARD! P.S. Leave a review or PM me. I'd love to know what you guys think!  
**

 **Chapter 11**

Sitting in a white, sterile conference room, Cas is participating in a meeting, led by Hannah. Other angels participate, some Castiel recognizes, some he does not. There's Raguel, the archangel of justice and vengeance. His main role is punishing those who transgress their Father's laws. There have been a few times that Castiel had to meet with him, for Raguel to deal with Castiel's consistent misdemeanor.

 _Cas._

Raguel sits the farthest away from him, paying attention in his army captain vessel. The angel facing Raguel, is Phanuel, the angel of penance. His duties have always been to act as a guardian angel to those who have inherited salvation. He's the angel of judgement, also of exorcism. He is known to give man the knowledge to fight off demons. He taps an impatient finger, as his female vessel tries to process information Hannah is giving them.

 _Come on Cas. Answer me._

The last angel Castiel recognizes is Zadkiel, the archangel of mercy and forgiveness. Castiel remembers him from the stories of Abraham and how he stopped him from sacrificing his son. He sits to the right of Castiel, in his young female vessel. She throws a small smile in his direction every now and again.

 _Cas, I know you can hear me._

However, not every angel looks upon him in tolerance. So he keeps his eyes forward, only paying attention to Hannah's words.

"What have you and your angels found Zadkiel?" Hannah asks.

Zadkiel's small frame stands up. "We've searched the Western hemisphere, so far, we have found nothing. There is no pattern to the massacre's and the only link between the vessels is that: vessels to powerful beings."

"Thank you," Hannah nods his head. "Raguel, what have you learned thus far?"

Raguel's authoritative figure stands at attention. "Nothing new to report. We've been able to follow the small trail the Darkness leaves behind, but it just vanishes."

Hannah nods his head again and Raguel sits back down. He turns his head towards Castiel. "Have you talked to the Winchesters of late?"

"Uh," Castiel says as he stands up, all angel eyes on him. "No. I've been trying to track the witch, Rowina, hoping to track down the book of the damned."

"Have you found her?"

"No."

Hannah nods his head once more. "Very well. We'll continue searching every corner of this world until we find something."

All the angels stand and wait as Hannah disappears first. Castiel, as well as the others, spreads his wings.

 _Cas. Cas, please. We need your help._

Castiel shuts out Dean's prayer. He can't divert now. He has another mess of his to clean up.

* * *

 _That horrid woman. I should have killed her when I had the chance. Well, next time, I won't hesitate. I'll just shove that knife fast and deep._ Crowley smiles at the thought of the light leaving his mother's eyes. That sick, twisted, satisfaction lurches whenever he thinks about it.

Crowley tries to shift around, but he can't. Nor can he open his eyes. _Bullocks._ He attempts to wiggle his toes. _Well, at lease_ those _can move._ He tries once more to open his eyes. It feels like someone is prying them open with scissors, using the blades as the plyers. But he succeeds and he wildly looks around.

He's surrounded by bark, as in tree bark. There are little trinkets and tools that hang up on the walls. There are a couple of tables covered in papers, which look like parchment, and what could be writing utensils. There's also a hallway entrance that leads out of the room he's in, and there's a nice little light, showing the way. He looks down at himself, and he's sporting two leather belts that wrap around his chest and his legs. His hands are bound as well and his new suit is crumpled.

Crowley tries once more to break free, but it's of little to no use. "Bullocks!"

"Now that's not a very nice thing to say," a small squeak of a voice pipes up from below a table.

A specimen with red, springy hair is wearing a forest green hat. The colors clash so badly, Crowley has to close his eyes. It's too Christmassy. He peeks through his eye lashes and sees, whatever the thing is, wearing a loose brown shirt, faded green pants peek out from beneath the long shirt, and it's wearing brown little booties.

"What are you?" His voice is raspy from lack of use, but the British accent makes his question drip with disgust and minor curiosity.

The thing shakes its head, "That's no way to thank someone who saved you. That angel was beyond hell bent to kill you."

Crowley scoffs at that. "You, saved me?"

"Only because an old friend asked me to," the really, short specimen turns around and drops an armload of stuff on a nearby table.

"Well, if you'd be as kind as to LET ME OUT!" Crowley snaps, tugging at his arms and legs.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk," the small creature turns around and large, green eyes stare up at him. And they're large, like taking up half its face large. "How impatient. Mother wouldn't be too happy if you weren't properly healed."

The creature turns back to the table and grabs a tiny hammer. It walks over and stands up on a stool, so its standing just a little taller than Crowley. He taps Crowley's forehead, once, twice, three times, and just to make sure, a fourth time. Whatever that thing is doing, Crowley doesn't appreciate it. Fuck manners, he's throwing them way out the window.

"Do you know what you're doing to the King of Hell?" Crowley spits.

The creature holds up the hammer as a warning. "You mean _former_ King of Hell. There's already a new one."

"There's a what?" He sputters out.

"A. New. King. Of. Hell." The creature repeats slowly. "Maybe there was some cranial damage. Mother must have stopped time a little too late."

"Tell me more about this new King of Hell," Crowley demands.

The creature holds up a magnifying glass that grows bigger when the thing twists the handle. "Only if you let me look inside."

"Inside what?"

"Your soul, of course!"

* * *

Gael is sitting in bed, lying on her side. Conversations with the Winchester brothers spin around her head. She knows it's her duty to help the world, but she knows what happens when powerful beings get involved. Personally she knows. _No, no,_ she thinks to herself, _the brothers got themselves into this mess, they can get themselves out._

She turns onto her other side and glares at the bare, white wall. Lights from cars driving by stream along her wall, the little speckles shadowing. _They just need help to lock it up_ , a thought pops in. An unwanted, reasonable thought. _It's not like you'll have to sacrifice much. And wouldn't it be great to join with mother again?_ Gael shakes her head and shoves that thought away. She pulls a pillow over her head to shut everything out. She's not going to deal with this. She left Maire for her own good. For both of their well-being.

 _Knock. Knock. Knock._

Gael pushes the pillow off and sits up in bed. It couldn't be the Winchesters, they promised to give her a couple of days to decide.

 _Knock. Knock. Knock._

Gael pulls her phone from the windowsill, where it's charging, and looks at it. She missed a call from Jared. Maybe it's him. She throws her covers off and walks out into the hallway.

 _Knock. Knock. Knock._

Gael rolls her eyes. "I'm coming, Jared, hold on a second," she yells.

She unlocks the door and swings it open. Her breath stops. Brown eyes stare back her. Those unremarkable, unoriginal, but recognizable eyes, bore into her. She stumbles back from the door. The figure pushes their way in, silently closing the door.

"Long time, no see."

The dark, brown irises turn black.


	12. Chapter 12

**Okay you guys, this is where things start to pick up. Leave a review, follow, favorite, send me a personal message. All feedback is welcomes. Now, ONWARD AND OFFWARD!**

* * *

 **Chapter 12**

Maire looks at the blackened hole in front of her. The scar in the ground is ripped open. The tree is ripped from the hidden enclosure and its shattered pieces scatter the ground. The twisted trunk is left intact, but a hole is ripped open and red spatters the trunk. Anger. Boiling anger stirs in the pit of Maire's stomach as she stares at the destruction. She pushes the feeling down. She can't lose control, not now and not again. She allows the numbing to run through her as she walks towards the trunk. She places her hands on the trunk and closes her eyes. The wind rustles around her, her vessel's hair whipping wildly around her face. Her brows contort together, forcing herself to concentrate.

She hasn't done this trick in years.

Maire forces the trunk to show her what happened and it does, quite happily. She opens her eyes and pulls away. Mulling over what she saw, she walks to another tree, still attached to the Earth. She knows what she has to do now.

Maire places her hand on a tree trunk and closes her eyes. Her true form leaves the vessel, the empty body crumpling to the ground.

* * *

Dean and Sam are at lost and impatient. The conversation with Gael went a lot better than they hoped, which was more than they had before. Sam's on the laptop once more, checking on the massacres. The body counts of the vessels have gone up, but not as much as civilians. Sam rubs his eyes, he feels like he's out of options and it doesn't help that Dean keeps pacing back and forth, fists clench.

Dean makes a grab for his leather coat lying on the bed and starts to head out.

"Where are you going?" Sam asks, resting his forehead in his hands.

"I'm going out."

"Out where, Dean?"

Dean shoves his arms through the coat sleeves, "I don't know Sam, out."

Sam doesn't look up. "Dean, just sit down."

"Sit down?" Dean scoffs and turns away for a second and then turns back. "Sit down? Sammy, I can't sit down. I have to do something. Anything."

"What do you want us to do, Dean?" Sam asks, standing up now. He holds his hands out as if pleading for a solution. "If you have any suggestions, I am more than willing to listen."

"I'm going back to Gael's," Dean says, making a grab for the car keys on the table. "And I'm going to convince her to take responsibility."

Sam grabs the keys before Dean could. "We can't do that Dean."

"And why the hell not?"

"Because, we told her we'd give her a few days!"

"We don't have a few days!" Dean shouts, a vein throbbing in his forehead. "Innocent people are _dying_ Sammy. Dying! And we aren't doing anything to stop it!"

"We're trying our best," Dean waves Sam's words away and turns from his brother. "Dean, we aren't even sure who we're up against. And even if we did, we don't even know how to fight them. Dean!"

"So what?" Dean stares at the shitty wall in front of him. "What are we supposed to do? Just wait for her to decide to help the world? She hasn't helped before, Sam!"

"We don't know that, Dean," Sam forces his older brother to look at him. "We don't know anything about her or what she's been doing. But Dean, we have to trust her."

"And why's that, Sam?" Dean glares at his brother. "Why do we have to trust her?"

"Because she's all we got."

Sam says it so simply and Dean knows he's not wrong. Dean runs his hand through his hair and turns away. Things got so complicated so fast and they were in the dark. Maire stopped talking to them and disappeared after her little minor eruption. Cas disappeared and hasn't been in contact with him. No one is telling them anything and the only person who is willing to even speak to them holds the future of the world and humanity in her hands. That's a shit ton of responsibility. Dean and Sam knows better than anyone about that kind of responsibility. But it's their fault the Darkness got out, so they have to put it back. No matter the cost.

"Have you talked to Cas lately?" Sam asks, breaking Dean out of his thoughts.

Dean sits down on his bed, defeated and tired. "No. I've tried calling him, but he hasn't answered."

"Maybe you have to try a different approach," Sam says. He chews his lip, thinking. "Tell him we have information on how to stop the killing."

Dean looks at Sam, confused and yet slightly confused. "Think it would work?"

Sam shrugs. "Wouldn't hurt to try. And it's not like we're lying."

Dean sits up straight, folds his hands in front of him, and closes his eyes. "Cas, we need your help." Dean waits a couple of beats. "We know how to stop the massacres."

"How?" A deep, gravelly voice appears out of nowhere, next to Dean.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean jumps and turns his attention to him. "God dammit Cas. Where the hell have you been? I've been calling you for weeks!"

Cas scrunches his forehead and looks from Dean to Sam and back to Dean. "I've been in Heaven. Hannah has the angels searching for the Darkness and the killers, while trying to save the vessels. What information do you have?"

Dean looks incredulous, exasperated, and a little pissed. After weeks and weeks of calling and begging for help. After weeks of wanting to know what the hell is going on. That's it. That's all Dean and Sam get. People have been dying. Time has been wasting. For what? For _what_? Sam breaks the silence, while Dean sits in his pissed off mood and steams.

"We found Maire's true vessel," Sam begins and Castiel's eyes light up. "But," Sam continues, "She's not too thrilled about letting Maire back in."

"Why?" Cas asks. "Did you tell her that it's her responsibility?"

Dean's about to say something, but Sam beats him to it. "We did and we convinced her to think about it for a couple of days."

Castiel nods his head and looks as if he's about to leave. "Alright. I'm going back to heaven and tell Hannah what you've found."

"Oh _hell_ no," Dean grabs Cas's arm and holds him still. "You're going to stay here and help us convince Gael."

"Yes, Dean," Cas says, his tone dripping with sarcasm, "Because that worked so well with you and Sam."

"This is different."

"How so, Dean?"

"Because Sam and I being vessels would have destroyed the world!" Dean spits, throwing Cas's arm away. "Not save it!"

"And just like we found another way to save the world," Cas explains, his eyes steady and sure. "We will again."

Dean scoffs and turns away from Cas to face his brother. "Tell him Sam. Tell him what else we've learned."

Sam looks down at his hands as Castiel's eyes bore into him. "This isn't the first time the Darkness was released."

"What do you mean?"

Sam and Dean share a look. Cas takes a step closer to them. "What do you mean?" He says more forcefully.

"Fifteen hundred years ago," Sam starts off, "a Chieftain learned about a tree that harbored great power. A dark power. He sacrificed his son in order to obtain it."

"What?" Cas asks, more than just perplexed. "This wasn't written down in any text of any kind."

"That's not all," Sam says. Castiel's eyes zip back up to him. "Gael was the one that had to lock it back up."

"How do you know this?" Cas asks. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Dean takes this turn to talk. "Well for one, we just learned about it this evening and second, you haven't answered!" Dean's voice rises at the end of his sentence.

"Well I'm sorry, Dean," Cas copies Dean's angry, authoritative tone, "I've been trying to find and protect powerful vessels for powerful beings! It isn't exactly easy!"

"You know what Cas," Dean says as he marches up to him and stabs a finger to his chest, "We wouldn't have this mess if it wasn't for your guy's grand scheme to break the curse!"

"Alright, Dean," Sam says, shoving himself between the angel and his brother, pushing Dean back, "back off. It was my idea, okay? I dragged him into it."

"He had a choice, Sam," Dean spits at him, "and so did Charlie." Dean chokes on the name. "That doesn't mean they had to participate!"

"Look," Sam shoves Dean, to make him move a bit from Cas. "You want someone to be mad at, be mad at me. Don't take it out on Cas!"

"Why?"

"Why, what Dean?"

"Why did you have to break the curse?" Dean asks. "Why did you have save me when I'm not even worth saving?"

"Yeah, why did you save him?" A soft voice comes from the door. All three men turn to the closed door, staring at Gael, who is standing inside with them.

"Son of a bitch," Dean whispers.

Sam runs over to her. He doesn't know where to put his hands to help. "What the hell happened to you?"

Gael brushes his words and his efforts to help, off. She limps over to the table, a leg dragging behind her. She's hunched over and cradling a broken arm. Her face looks like it was smashed by a wall and then scraped with a cheese grater. There are blood stains on her shorts and sweatshirt, as well as splattered chunks of something stuck to her legs and hair.

"Does it matter?" She answers, as she gingerly sits on the vacant chair.

Castiel moves over to her, but Gael shakes her head.

"I can help…"

"I don't want it." She cuts him off.

"But…"

"I can heal on my own," She cuts him off again. Her tired eyes turn to his and she feels guilty for her sharp tone. "Thank you, though. For the offer."

Cas nods his head and backs off. Dean has so many questions floating in his head, the one he decides to ask was just out of morbid curiosity.

"What happened to other guy?"

"You mean guys," she corrects him. She shifts in the uncomfortable chair and a sick, twisted, satisfied smile crawls across her face. "They spontaneously combusted."

* * *

 **Update: Hey you guys, sorry I haven't put another chapter up. I haven't had time and I'll explain later. I do intend to have a another chapter up on Monday, until then, I hope you guys have a great labor day weekend and I hope you stay safe!  
**


	13. Chapter 13

**Explanation at the end. ONWARD AND OFFWARD!**

* * *

 **Chapter 13**

 _Gael stands in front Maire and twirls around in a pink linen dress. She holds out her arms to show her mother and twirls around once more. Something warm enters Gael and she closes her eyes. A green light curves up in mind, as if Maire is smiling. A leaf falls from one of the taller branches and softly lands on her cheek. Gael places her hand upon her cheek, holding the leaf there for a few seconds longer._

 _Rustling from behind drags the attention of both and they spot Dubhlainn coming forth. Gael's hand leaves her cheek and the leaf dances to the ground. Dubhlainn waits at the edge of the bushes and tree and he keeps his eyes forward, never leaving Maire. Gael takes a step forward, but a force pulls her back, behind the twisted tree. The Earth cracks in front of the tree and Gael. In warning._

 _Dubhlainn takes a deep breath and walks forward. He stops just in front of the crack. He heeds the warning._

" _Maire," Dubhlainn starts, "Mé teacht chun iarraidh ar do chead."_ I've come to ask your permission.

 _A harsh whips around his person, shoving from side to side._

 _"Tabhair deis Gael chun bheith, agus mé, dá cuid."_ Please allow Gael to become mine and I, hers.

 _Dubhlainn yells across the wind. He falls forward from the force of the wind, his knees collapsing to the ground and his hands landing just past the crack._

 _The wind stops._

 _Dubhlainn looks up and he swears that he saw the tree turn to look at Gael. Gael looks up at the tree and smiles. It is a glorious sight to see. The smile lights up Gael's face and leaf falls once more onto her face. A warm green light glows around her. It's as if Maire is giving Gael a hug._

 _Gael pulls away from her mother and walks over to Dubhlainn and stops just in front of the crack. She waits. Dubhlainn takes a tentative step over the crack and wraps her up in his arms. He looks over towards Maire and a slight sprinkle of rain falls from the sky. Gael looks over to her mother and leans her head into his chest. She can't help but smile._

 _Tá mo chead agat._ You have my permission.

 _The words warm their way through both their minds. Gael pulls away from Dubhlainn and walks up to her mother. She gently lays her hand on the twisted trunk and bows her head in thanks._

 _"Tá mé ag cur léi chun freastal ar mo athair. Geallaim go mbainfidh mé a choinneáil slán í."_ I'm taking her to meet my father. I promise I'll keep her safe.

 _Féadfaidh na gods agus goddesses tú a choinneáil slán._ May the gods and goddesses keep you safe.

 _Gael pulls away from her mother and takes Dubhlainn's hand. Maire watches as her little girl walks away with the man she loves. She sends blessings from all over the world to her. She sends a last tickling thought to Gael._

 _Tabhair faoi a bheith sábháilte._ Please, be safe.

* * *

Gael's face is white and ashen. There are blood spots springing up everywhere and Sam doesn't know where to put towels so he can stop the bleeding. But it doesn't matter, since Gael refuses to have anyone help her.

"Who did this to you?" Castiel asks, as he takes a seat from across her.

She waves her hand, waving off his question. "It doesn't matter."

"Have you seen your face?" Dean moves closer to inspect the clumpy gunk in her hair. He picks a piece up. "What is this?"

"A demon's human vessel."

Dean squishes the meshiness of the flesh and looks at it curiously. Sam clears his throat and Dean looks up at him. Ah and there is his bitch face, all scrunched together in disapproval and annoyance. Dean wipes his hand on his pants.

"What? It's not the grossest thing I've ever touched."

"Look, I just came to," Gael stops talking and bends over.

She's coughing and hacking and her body is shaking and convulsing. Blood spatters the ground and a spit dribble hangs from her mouth. Castiel gets up and runs over to her. He takes the towel from Sam and wipes her mouth. He throws the towel away and checks her pulse. It's pulsing fast and hard. But it's starting to fade.

"Gael," Castiel forces her to look up at him. Her hazel eyes have become faded and blurry. The red is bright and stark against her white skin. "Gael, we have to get you somewhere safe."

"Take her to the bunker," Dean says. "We'll pack up here and wait for you to come back."

Castiel nods his head and starts to pick Gael up. With a sudden burst of energy, Gael surges forward, towards Sam, and clutches his shirt tightly. She mouths something, but she's too quiet. Sam leans his head down so he can hear her better.

"He's coming," Gael whispers. "He's coming for me. And he's coming for you."

Her voice fades at the end and she collapses on the floor. Castiel picks her up. Her necklace glows a light green color and they vanish.

Sam and Dean start to pack. Quickly. They pull out their duffle bags from underneath their beds. Dean takes the gun out from under his pillow. Sam takes his knife from underneath his pillow as well. Dean takes the coats from the coat closet and stuff them into his duffle. Sam forces his laptop into its case. They ignore the bathroom. They can always buy new toiletries.

 _Knock. Knock._

Dean and Sam stop.

 _Knock_ … _knock…_

They look towards the door.

 _Knock…knock…BAM!_

The door is blown apart. Sam and Dean duck and cover. The wood splinters sink into their arms and faces.

 _Step. Step. Step._

"Well, hello boys," A deep, raspy, unused, voice says. "It's nice to finally meet you."

They look up at the man standing in the doorway. He's very ordinary looking with his average height, average brown eyes, and his average brown, curly hair. But his eyes. His iris's are black. Dean stands up, gun in hand.

 _Bang. Bang. Bang._

Rapid shots are fired into the man's chest. He staggers back, but that's all he does. He looks down at his chest and the holes heal simultaneously. The bullets clatter to the ground as they were pushed out.

The man takes a step forward.

"Well, that wasn't a very nice way to greet a guest."

A force slams Dean against the wall, his back breaking. And he could feel it. Every bone that did break, he felt it. The little splinters. The pain amplified. He cried out. Sam makes a run at the man, his demon knife in hand and shoves it into his chest. The man looks down and pulls the knife out. He tosses it to the floor as if it is nothing. His eyes roam Sam up and down. Sam's body involuntarily moves up and slams down. Cracking the floor beneath him.

The man sits at the now empty chair and clasps his hands.

"Now, that you two have that out of your system. I need some answers."

"We…ain't…telling…you…shit…" Dean gasps out.

"Now you know, I knew you would say that."

An immeasurable amount of pain enters both of the brother's bodies. There's too much pain. They can't cry out. It hurts to think. To move. To breathe. The man stands up and slowly paces between them.

"See, I've lost my toy," he crouches down in front of Sam and tilts his head to look at him better. "And I would like it back."

Sam tries to open his mouth, but he can't. It hurts too much. It feels like something is ripping and tearing and shredding everything inside of him. It feels like something is on fire and something is frozen, at the same time. It feels like a thousand stabs wound and those same stab wounds are being hit over and over and over again. It feels like something is twisting his heart around and around and around. It's too much.

"You're probably wondering what I'm doing," the man stands back up and walks over to Dean. His face surpasses the unacceptable invasion of personal space. "You see, I'm corrupting your soul."

He pulls away, "Now, you may think how that's possible, well it's quite simple actually: pain and suffering. What you two are feeling is all the pain and suffering in this world and in the next."

The man gets in close to Dean once more. "Maire isn't the only one that can tamper with souls."

The man shoves his hand into Dean's chest and tightly grips whatever it is he has caught. The pain is amplified even more. Dean cries out and as does Sam.

"Now, you're feeling your brother's pain," The man turns his attention to Sam, who is withering on the floor. "Maybe you can understand your brother more." He turns his head and faces Dean again. "Or maybe it's you who needs to understand his brother."

His hand leaves his chest, but the pain stays. As he steps back, a hand grips his shoulder and spins him around. A long, rounded, sharply tipped dagger is shoved into his stomach and aimed up towards his heart. The man's eyes widen as they stare at the glowing blue eyes. A hand lands on his forehead and a flash of bright light comes forth, knocking the man out.

Dean and Sam are released from their painful shackles. Castiel runs over to Dean, drapes an arm around his shoulder and drags him over to Sam. Once his hand is on Sam's shoulder, they're gone.

* * *

They arrive inside the bunker and Castiel lets Dean fall to the floor. He looks up and around Castiel's neck is Gael's tree necklace. Sam rolls to his side, but he stops when he makes it. His breathing is labored from his movement.

"What…the…hell…happened…" Dean gasps out, once he's able to sit up by himself.

Castiel shakes his head, "I don't know."

* * *

The man wakes up to an empty room. As his eyes scan it, he can feel his strong emotions bubbling forth. The walls around him crack. The floor breaks open. Fire breaks from the heater and spreads.

He stands up and walks out of the room. The building behind crumples up, cracks appearing everywhere. He controls his facial expression back to neutral, but his emotions erupt from in the form of a collapsed building. The hotel crumbles to the ground. Screams erupt from the debris and sirens sound in the distance. The fire races with the speed of ambulance and tries its best to engulf…everything.

The man walks away, satisfied with his destruction. As he walks away from the chaos, he thinks to himself. He thinks about his revenge for Maire. For the Winchester brothers. For the angel. But most for Gael. A sick grin spreads across his face as he plays in his mind what he's going to do to her.

It's almost time to eat.

* * *

 **Okay, sorry that this update took some time. I've been working long hours at my job, I've been working on film projects for school, and you probably don't really care. Anyways, I've been busy. I'm going to try my best to do two chapters this week. Also, I would like to thank the two people who reviewed, anonymous and Mackenzie (hopefully I spelt your name right) I'm glad you two are enjoying my story. It's good to know that people are liking what I'm writing and I hope you continue to like it. Anyways, that's it for today, I hope you guys had a great labor day weekend. So please, review or message me! Tell me what you think, because I'm not going to lie, those two reviews really pushed me to write and writing this chapter was a chore. THANKS FOR READING!**


	14. Chapter 14

**I'm really sorry for being able to only post once this week. I've forgotten how time consuming video production can be. So, this chapter is twice as long as they usually are, so it counts as two chapters right? Right? You guys have got to throw me a bone here. Anyways, I keep forgetting those who have favorited and followed this story. Thank you, for you favoriters and followers, I can't tell you how much this means. Honestly, I never thought people would like this story enough to want to follow it, so thank you. So, without further adieu, please review or PM me, favorite and follow and all that wonderful stuff. Now, ONWARD AND OFFWARD!  
**

* * *

 **Chapter 14**

Cas kneels down next to Dean and carefully places his hands on Dean's back. The pain that was emanating from his spine, leaves. Dean visibly relaxes as the world's pain leaves his body, but there is still an aching stuck in his soul. Whether that pain was there before, or it's left over from the attempted corruption, Dean isn't sure. Cas then moves over to Sam and heals him as well.

"Who the hell was that?" Sam asks, groaning as Castiel helps him stand up.

"I have no fucking idea," Dean says, grunting as he tries to pull himself up. "But I'm pretty sure that guy messed up Gael."

"Who messed up Gael?" An Irish accent brought their attentions to the front door.

Whom they're assuming is Maire, stands at the bottom of the stairs. Her black hair is up in a ponytail, which sets off her blue eyes. She's wearing blue and pink piggy pajama bottoms and an oversized t-shirt that reads "I love bacon", an image of a red heart standing in place of love. The body couldn't be much older than sixteen or fifteen.

"Did you kidnap a kid?" Dean asks, incredulous.

Maire turns those eyes to him. They were a much, much darker shade of blue compared to Castiel's. "I always ask permission. I let them know the consequences of saying yes. If they say no, I move on. This girl, however," Maire raises the girl's arms, as if to show them what she means, "Had no problem saying yes."

Dean shakes his head, "To think you'd take over a kid."

"Gael was around the same age as this one when I first joined with her." Maire's blue eyes turn a deeper, darker, shade of blue. Like a stormy ocean when it's the worst. "Now, are yoe done commenting on my choice of vessel or would ye like to continue? I have information that ye may or may not find helpful."

Dean waves his hands at her and she turns to look them all over. The brothers were bruised, but she could also see the blackness inside them. It's eating away at them. Maire strides over to Dean and shoves her hand into his stomach. Dean screams at the sudden pain, veins appearing all over his body. Sweat stains start appearing through his shirt. Sam is about to stop Maire, until Cas puts his hand on Sam's arm. Sam turns to look at him and Cas tells him to wait.

Maire turns to Sam and gestures at him to come closer. He does. She shoves her arm inside of his stomach as well, except Sam is prepared. He only grunts at the pain.

Maire jerks her arms out and a black smoke is twisting itself around each of her hands and up her arms. Those blue eyes turn to a dark shade of green and the black smoke is set on fire. The flames lick its way around her fingers and follow the smoke up her arms. The smoke tries to run from the fire. It swiftly twirls itself around her body, the two black smokes coming together. The fire makes its way to each other as well, burning brighter and hotter together than when they were separate. The smoke moves its way up, crawling over her neck and chin, trying to pry its way inside. Before it could reach her nose, the fire catches up and eats the corruption away.

"Son of a bitch," Dean whispers.

Maire wipes at her nose, a dribble of blood escaped and dripped onto her mouth. Her vessel looks pale an exhausted. "And that, dear boys, is how ye purify a corrupted soul."

Castiel walks up to her and places his hands on either side of the girl's face. "Your vessel will be fine."

Maire nods her head and then something catches her eyes. It's Gael's necklace, dangling around Castiel's neck. The one she hadn't taken off since…well, that long ago day. Maire reaches her hand out and grabs the necklace, forcing Castiel to bend down a little.

"This is Gael's," Maire states. Her eyes holding onto Cas's.

"She gave it to me, so it would be easier to enter the bunker."

"Where is she?" There's a tiny shakiness in her voice.

"Sam's room."

"Give me the necklace."

Castiel takes it off and hands it to her. Maire runs out of the main room. She bursts through the door to Sam's room, which does a look a little bit homey, and sees Gael lying still on the bed.

She stops. Gael's body is pale and broken. Maire spots small movement from her chest. Little breathes coming in and coming out. Her face is battered with bruises showing up all over, and scratches that have mauled her features. Maire's eyes scan down and notice that one of her arms and one of her legs are lying in awkward angles. Maire moves closer to the still Gael and places the necklace back around her neck. The metal glows a dull shade of green and Gael takes in a deep breath and lets it out, as if she's finally feeling relaxed, maybe even safe.

Maire reaches down and lays a hand upon Gael's cheek. She leans down and gently plants a kiss on Gael's forehead. She lingers there, while a warm green glow twirls its way around Gael's face and body. Cocooning her in a blanket of warmth and safety. The scratches start to heal and Gael's arm and leg move into the correct position. Maire pulls away, but leaves her hand on Gael's cheek.

 _Dia duit mo 'níon, tá sé le bheith tamall._ _ **Hello my daughter, it's been a while.**_

* * *

Crowley shakes his body, trying to free himself from the latches, again. The little imp thing waddles back in, carrying a tray with a cup of something inside of it. The creature stands on top of a stool in order to be a little taller than the table.

"Open wide!" The thing gleefully says as it raises the cup.

"What the…" Crowley gurgles the rest of his words down as the thing dumps the liquid contents down his throat. Crowley hacks and coughs, spitting some of the liquid on the ground.

The fairy looking thing shakes its head, hair bobbing all over, "What a waste of elixir."

The creature cuts a piece off from Crowley's tailored shirt and uses it to wipe up the spittle. Standing back up, the cloth burns in the things hands. The creature turns back to its work station and starts flipping through some old books. Crowley takes another gander around the room. There are weird shaped tools hanging on the walls, with what looks like blue prints, nailed to the walls as well. It is an organized mess, one that must have taken _years_ to do.

"Alright," Crowley says, his eyes turning back to the imp fairy thing. "You've looked into my soul. I want to know why."

The creature doesn't look up from the book its reading. "Souls are an interesting thing. Some are worth more than others."

Crowley looks down for a second processing this. If there's a price for souls, other than just dealing with them, that means there's a market out there to exploit them. His heart starts racing at the very _idea_ of selling souls. He could be making millions, but also Hell would be empty and without someone to torture, it would be no fun. And he can't have that. But he could keep some and sell some souls. Maybe…just maybe…

The imp thing turns its head sharply to look at Crowley. Its wide green eyes observing him as if it could hear what he's thinking. The small body zooms right up to Crowley, its face very, very close to his own.

"I would think very carefully, if I were you," the fairy says quietly. Slowly. "Mother doesn't like a life given, wasted." The huge green eyes never let go of Crowley's. There's a beginning of a sneer on the thing's lips. "You don't want her regretting saving you."

"Or your mother will do what?" Crowley asks, trying to gain a little more information.

"You'll wish that the angel skinned you alive." The things eyes grow harsh with each word. "Mother can be very…inventive when mother wants to be."

Crowley holds his breath.

"Do you understand Mr. Crowley?"

"Do you DARE to threaten the King of Hell?" Crowley whispers, his voice slightly shaking in fear.

The imp fairy leans in closer to his face, its small nose touching his. " _Former_ King of Hell. I already told you someone has taken your place. Someone more…qualified."

"What do you mean?"

"Your soul isn't what it used to be, Mr. Crowley," the creature stands up straight, looking down at the demon.

"My soul is as corrupted as the first day I joined Hell!"

The creature shakes its head once more. "No, it's not."

"What do you mean?" Crowley asks, horrified at what the answer might be.

"Your soul," the creature steps down from the stool and moves back over to the books, littered on its desk. "Is more human than it's ever been."

The imp thing turns around and stares Crowley straight into his eyes. "I guess you shouldn't have gotten addicted to humanity, right, Mr. Crowley?"

* * *

Sam gently taps on the door to his bedroom. The door quietly swings open and he smiles at what he sees. Maire is sitting on the bed with Gael: one arm is wrapped around Gael's shoulder and the other hand is gently playing with Gael's hair. Sam walks in and puts the tray down on the night stand next to his bed. Gentle murmurs, Sam has to strain to really hear them, come from Maire, as if she is quietly singing a song. Sam stops and looks at her, with her cheek resting on top of Gael's head. Maire smiles to him and starts to sing louder.

 _Smile though your heart is breaking._

 _Smile, even though its aching._

 _When there are clouds, in the sky, you'll get by._

 _Smile through your pain and sorrow._

 _Smile and maybe tomorrow._

 _You'll feel the sun come shining through, for you._

There's a content smile on Gael's face as Maire finishes singing the song. She places a little kiss on Gael's forehead and a long breath releases from her. Maire gestures for Sam to sit down in the chair.

"It's alright, we can talk now," Maire says, in somewhat quiet voice.

"That song," Sam starts and then thinks before he continues. "Is it Irish?"

Maire keeps herself from chuckling, but the smile widens. "No, it was written by Charlie Chaplin, a fine, happy, yet sad, fellow."

"Like the song," Sam muses.

Maire nods, "Gael loves singing." Maire looks down at Gael and love just pours from her eyes. It reminds Sam of the few times he's met his mother. The way she looked at him in ghost form. The way, in Dean's pictures, how those eyes easily show love. "Singing helps her heal faster. It also makes her feel better."

Maire looks up from the woman, who looks like a young girl in her mother's arms, and stares at Sam.

"Where's yer delinquent of a brother and a abandoning angel?" Maire asks, taking a peek behind Sam.

"Dean's doing research and Castiel went to Heaven to share the information we gave him," Sam explains. "But Dean asked me to get more information from you."

Maire looks down at Gael. "The story is not mine to tell. But what I can tell ye is that a powerful witch released the Darkness's true vessel."

"Who's the witch?" Sam asks, but he already has an idea of who it could be.

Maire arches an eyebrow when she looks at him. "Ye already know."

* * *

 _The two lovers stand at the entrance of Dubhlainn's village. Fields surround the outside of the rock wall, with a pathway leading up to a large, wooden door. Gael starts to reach for Dubhlainn's hand, but decides against it. Her heart is racing. She's never been this far away from Maire, at least not when she isn't following her through the trees. But she can't feel her mother's presence. She is alone. She looks up to Dubhlainn and he looks down to her. He smiles and grabs her hand. Soon, they are both walking through the gates._

 _The sound is loud and it hurts her ears. People are yelling and screaming about them wanting people to buy something. There are others who look like her, except their hair is a different color and some are different sizes and shapes than her. There are conflicting smells filling the air. There are times when her body wants to badly reject the smell in a vicious fashion and then there are times when her stomach rumbles at the wonderful aroma._

 _Small versions of people looking like her run around the dusty ground, which looks like it's leading the people. Small beasts chase and are being chased by the small people, as the people laugh and tumble when they choose to tackle the small beast. Dubhlainn tightens his grip on Gael's hand and he starts pulling her towards a round structure, made out of stones. There's a hole in the wall that allows her to peek in. There's a fire pit and giant, dark, stone thing standing in the middle of the small room._

 _Clang. Clang. Clang._

 _The sound is loud and harsh. Gael pulls her hand away from Dubhlainn's and covers her ears. She winces every time she hears the disastrous sound. Dubhlainn tries his best to contain his smile. He grabs her face between both his hands and mouths that he'll be right back. Gael stands still as he walks into a door. She looks around and marvels at the sights and sounds. There are so many beings like herself here, as well as beings that look like Dubhlainn as well._

 _She feels a hand on her shoulder and turns around to face something metal and majestic. She looks at those brown eyes that are filled with apprehension and excitement. She's confused as to what this is for._

" _Seo claíom, is bronntanas ó dom a thabhairt duit chun ceiliúradh a lá a bhuail mé tú."_ This sword, is a gift from me to you to celebrate the day I met you.

 _Gael reaches out a hand and touches the silver hilt that resembles two trunks twisted together. The leather scabbard has leaves of a hazel and oak tree etched into it. Gael carefully takes the beautiful creation from Dubhlainn and latches the belt around her waist, the sword sitting nicely against her hip. She doesn't have words to express her gratitude. So, she takes his hand and squeezes it. She tells him everything with her eyes._

 _Dubhlainn squeezes her hand back and looks up at another wall surrounding a structure, also built with stones, towering over all the other structures held within the first set of gates. He takes a deep breath and starts walking forward. Gael follows._

It is time.


	15. Chapter 15

**Hey guys, sorry this chapter is so short, I just kind of wanted to get this out. I promise I don't count this as the one chapter for this week, but I felt like this moment was needed and that this conversation was needed just as much. That's all I have for you today, I hope you enjoy it. Anyways, please favorite and follow, review, let me know what you think. Now, ONWARD AND OFFWARD!**

* * *

 **Chapter 15**

Dean knocks on the door. It swings in. He pops his head in and sees that Gael is sitting on the edge of the bed, facing away from him. Her hair blond hair is a mess. The shirt Sam let her borrow is three sizes too big for her, the hem of it pools on the bed. Her back is hunched over and her head is leaning down. It looks as if she's just staring at the wall. Dean clears his throat with a cough. Nothing. Dean takes a step in, putting his hands in his pockets.

"What do you want?" A small whisper comes from the still form in front of him.

"Just came to check in on you."

"Where's Maire?"

"She went out with Cas," Dean shuffles more into the room. "Something about Cas informing the angels what's going on."

She gives him a slight nod.

"Hey, you doing okay?" He walks fully into the room.

She shrugs. "Just thinking."

"Well, that's never good," Dean says as he walks all the way around the bed to face her.

Gael's face is white, but the bruises and scratches are all healed. It looks as if she's all better, but there's a pensive look on her face. Her usual bright blue/green hazel eyes are dull, as if something inside her has broken. Dean sits down next to her. She doesn't say anything to him.

"You have regrets." She says it more as a statement.

"You have regrets too."

Gael scoffs, but she makes a face that says the motion hurt. "I have fifteen-hundred years of regrets."

"Is that guy one of them?" Dean asks, talking about the night at the motel.

"What guy?" She asks, her face now completely devoid of emotion. It takes too much energy.

"The guy that almost killed you and us," Dean's voice raises slightly with irritation, but checks it when he sees her mouth twitch.

Finally, she moves to face him. Her eyes roam up and down, with a small smile breaking her still face. The smile disappears as soon as it comes and she faces back to the wall. "You're still alive. That's impressive."

Dean scoots a little closer to Gael. "Look, we need to know what we're up against, alright? Because that guy almost killed us and we have a right to know."

Gael scoffs once more. "A right? You guys have a right to know?" She turns her head and looks at him. "You mean, you have no idea what you released? Or who?" The last word comes out as a snarl.

Dean closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Look," Dean opens his eyes and stares right into her blank, dead ones. "Innocent people are dying, dying, and you're just going to sit here and mope around? Don't you care?"

Gael's eyes never waver from his, but Dean is not easily intimidated. So he continues, "I don't know where the hell you and Maire were during the apocalypse or when the leviathan were roaming free or whenever huge shit went down, but we were here," Dean grabs Gael's arm and squeezes tightly when she looks away. "We fought the good fight. Now, it's your turn."

Gael rips her arm away from Dean, but she doesn't look at him. "You want to know where I was during the apocalypse?" She turns ferocious eyes to Dean, the one real emotion she's finally shown. "Maire and I were protecting the other seals from being opened, while your angel friends were dicking around!" Her voice rises at the end, echoing throughout the room. "The leviathan was not our problem, but your angel friend's problem, because he decided to play god! We've had other battles to fight!" Gael jumps up, now staring down at Dean, her fists clutched tightly shut. "Just because I'm not covered in battle scars and have nightmares of people screaming in my ears does not mean I was not fighting! I've lost people too Dean!"

Dean looks down at the ground, wanting to look at anything else other than her eyes sparkling with tears. Her body is shaking from the sheer force of her anger and frustration.

"You've lost what, ten friends and family and so many other number of victims you tried to save," Gael grabs Dean's face and forces him to look at her. "I've lost that many people times a thousand. I've fought Dean and I'm tired of fighting."

They hold each other's eyes for a couple of seconds until Gael finally decides to let go of his face.

"What happened?" Dean asks, as Gael's body just collapses back onto the bed.

"Free will happened," Gael whispers, suddenly exhausted from her explosion of sudden energy.

Now it's Dean's turn to scoff. "Free will? I remember a powerful archangel telling me that it's all an, an illusion."

"Of course it's an illusion to angels," Gael's eyes revert back to the wall. "They weren't created with it, humans were. The concept of it baffles them. Why do you think the world sucks with such a 'benevolent' God?"

"Because people want the world to suck?"

"Because people make choices that makes the world suck," Gael whispers, but then a twitch that could mislead into a smile appears. "Then there are those who try their hardest to make it suck less."

Dean lowers his head and thinks about what she just said.

"So, which one are you going to be?" Gael's eyes lift to his. "Are you going to be someone to make the world suck more or make it suck less?"

Gael stares at him for a time and then looks away, back to her spot on the wall.

"Please, go," she whispers.

Dean stands up, even though it goes everything screaming within him. Even though he wants to pick her up and shake her and make her help them. Make her help save the world; he knows he can't force her. She looks so listless and fragile. He wants to help her too, but right now he can't. So, Dean stands up and walks out the door.

Gael closes her eyes as the door clicks. She's already made up her mind. She already knows what she has to do. She's just not ready yet.

Gael opens her eyes and a single, lonely tear slides down her cheek.

She knows. She's always known.


	16. Chapter 16

**Okay you guys, here it is, the long awaited chapter. Sorry it took so long, explanation at the bottom. Now, ONWARD AND OFFWARD!**

* * *

 **Chapter 16**

Jared opens the door to Gael's apartment complex and walks up the stairs. Once he reaches the top, he stops. The door is smashed in. There's a break in the middle of it where it's bent. Panic enters the pit of Jared's stomach and he runs into the apartment. He frantically looks around.

The living room table is smashed. The couch is broken in half with the fabric shredded. The few pictures on the walls have fallen and they, too, are ruined. There are holes in the walls, many of them and the kitchen and the dining room are destroyed. But it is the massive blood stains on the carpet. There is blood spatter against one wall and in front of that spatter are three blood puddles.

Jared runs through all possible scenarios in his head: a robber, the brothers, or _him_. He shakes his head at the notion, trying to make himself belief that it isn't true. That it _couldn't_ happen. He kneels down on the ground and touches the tip of his pointer finger into a blood puddle. Droplets of blood move towards the slight dent his finger makes. Either this fight just happened or the carpet absorbed as much of the blood as it could. Neither of those scenarios sits well with him.

Jared pulls his cellphone from his pants and dials Gael's number. He hears a soft tune playing, but it is nearby. He stands up and walks over to Gael's room. Cautiously pushing the door open, he peeks in. The last thing he wants is to be ambushed. No one is there. He opens the door all the way and steps in. Gael's room is a mess. The desk she used is now just a pile of splinters, her work strewn all over the floor. Her bed is a mess of balled up sheets. There is another blood puddle pooled in the middle of her bed.

Jared moves things around, trying to find her phone. When he moves closer to the windowsill, he hears the tune _I like big butts and I cannot lie_. He will never understand, for the life of him, why she chose that song for him, but his is grateful that ringtone is loud enough for him to hear.

He picks up the phone. This. This was not good. This is beyond good and beyond his training. He hangs up and dials a different number.

"Mr. Browne," a gravelly voice chokes out the word.

"She's gone," Jared cuts to the chase. He has no time to waste.

"Explain."

"She hasn't come to work for two days. I'm at her place now."

"And?"

"There was a huge fight. It's," Jared has to stop and take a breath. His voice cannot be shaky while reporting to his boss. "It's messy. The place is destroyed."

"Where is she?"

"I don't know, Sir."

"Find her," a couple of beats pass before the gravelly says, "Before he does."

Jared doesn't want to say it. He doesn't want to think about it, but he knows. In fact, he's always known. Now that the time has come, he has to…he has to…

"I believe he already has, Sir."

* * *

The man walks into his cave, only to find it empty. The drip, drip, drips of water plop to the floor and it's the only sound welcoming him home. He strolls around the empty cavern and stares at the drawings along the walls. He comes upon a drawing and reaches a hand up and gently touches it. The man feels nothing, just the jagged edges of stone. _It's only a picture_ , he thinks to himself. It's the only proof that Gael left that this man ever existed. The drawing of a twisted, gnarly tree. The black and white colors mesh together, emanating the aura of death from said tree.

 _Enough._

The man walks away from the drawing and stands in front of only table in the hideout. On the moldy furniture is a note, obviously written by his "partner." His mind sneers at the word, making him feel dirty. He picks up the paper and reads an address on it. The man crumples it up and tosses it over his shoulder.

He turns towards the cave's entrance and stares at the light. The man takes a slight step forward and reaches out his hand. Slight warmth touches his fingertips, but the cold, wet dripping drops of water washes the warmth away. He lowers his hand and closes his eyes. Forcing to make his vessel feel the darkness twisting and turning inside of him, the soul, or what's left of it, dies a little more. The inside of the body is rotting away and the Darkness revels in it.

Taking a deep breath, the man opens his eyes. He walks out of the cave, the full force of his power following him. But, with each step he takes, the ground crumbles away from him. The roof shakes and rumbles. The man clutches his hands closed, tightly, and the entrance collapses.

He looks out into the forested area and his resolution is renewed. As of late, he's been feeling those feelings that humans feel. He remembers the battle and what he was like before. Circumstances came and he had to change accordingly. Unfortunately, Maire was a creation of those changes. No matter. He reminds himself of his mission. Destruction. Chaos. Ruins. Death doesn't always happen, but when it does it's a lovely feeling.

Now, it is time. To rejoin Rowina and prepare.

* * *

The little creature is still sitting at its desk, reading over some more dusty books. Crowley gave up struggling, knowing he isn't going to be able to get out anytime soon. But that's not it; he couldn't help but run through what the creature told him. There's a market for selling souls.

Now, if Crowley remembers correctly, there was a certain angel that used to still human souls and sell them to buyers. But where would he even be able to find buyers…

"Hey!" The fairy looking thing snaps its fingers in front of Crowley's face.

"What?" He snaps.

"I can see what you're thinking," the huge eyes bore into Crowley's. It's unsettling. "I'm going to tell mother."

The creature jumps off the stool and walks over to a tree wall that has an engraved handprint. It places its hand inside of the engraving and closes its huge eyes. It mumbles a few words and it opens its eyes. A green light shines forth and lands on Crowley as the thing slowly turns its head. Crowley watches at the fairy moves its mouth, but he doesn't understand what's coming out. The thing nods its head, red hair bouncing around.

The creature closes its eyes and removes its hand from the tree wall. Turning to look at Crowley, a frown creases its brow, as if thinking about something. Crowley really wants to know what "mother" said, but he's also afraid to ask. Bloody hell. The creature's eyes turn concerning and sad, as if the news it's received isn't something it wanted to hear.

"Mr. Crowley," the creature whispers.

"What?" Crowley snaps, trying to hide whatever emotion he's feeling. "What the bloody hell is it?"

"I'm sorry Mr. Crowley," the creature whispers as it turns its back on him and walks out of the room.

"What?" Crowley yells. "What! WHAT?!"

Crowley struggles even more, twisting and turning. He continues screaming after the stupid creature, but it disappears as a curtain of leaves falls behind it.

Crowley's screams go unheard. But not unnoticed.

* * *

"Castiel," Hannah starts off, sitting in the same white, sterile room, "why didn't you tell me sooner?"

Castiel lowers his head and is about to say something, but Maire interjects. "Because he just found out like ye."

Hannah eyes the sixteen year old vessel up and down. He doesn't like that this _being_ knows more than he does. He doesn't like the power radiating off of this being. He doesn't like the way Maire's authoritative vibe overrides his. But, what she doesn't like most of all is the lack of information sharing. His eyes turn cold and calculating

"I believe I asked Castiel," Hannah's voice is low and threatening.

Maire walks up to the chair next to Hannah, places her palms carefully on top of the table and leans in _real_ close to Hannah's face.

"Look here, General Angel," the Irish accent is also low and threatening. "Ye better take that pillar out of yer arse before someone does it for ye."

Hannah's brown eyes shoot over to Maire's. The threat sounds off coming from a sixteen year old. But the old, powerful, dark blue eyes holds that promise. He doesn't waver.

"I'm not here to take yer place," Maire stands back up straight, still looking down at the angel. "But if I have to destroy this universe to save it, because ye angels love to, as my daughter says 'dick around,' then I will."

"I don't respond well to threats," Hannah slowly stands up, trying to remain in control.

"That's not a threat," Maire responds. "It's a promise and I always keep my promise."

Castiel looks between Maire and Hannah, amused by the standoff, but they don't have time for that. Right now, they need to find Rowina and stop her.

"Alright," Hannah finally breaks the tense silence, but keeps his eyes on Maire. "I'll spread the garrisons out. Raguel's team will track down the remaining vessels. Phanuel's team will continue tracking the Darkness's and its army's movements. Zadkiel and his team will be on lookout for Gael and the Winchesters. Is that clear?"

* * *

Dean walks into the main room of the bunker with two giant cups of coffee. He steps up to the table, where books are strewn across the table and papers litter the floor. Dean puts one of the cups down, it says world's best hunter, as Sam rubs his face in exhaustion and frustration.

Dean sits across from him and pulls a book over to him. Sam takes a sip of coffee and immediately spits it out.

"What the hell Dean?!" Sam looks around the table, trying to find something to wash his mouth out.

Dean takes a giant gulp of coffee and smacks his lips in appreciation. "What Sammy? Coffee too strong?"

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

Sam rolls his eyes and pushes the coffee away. He turns his attention back to his laptop as Dean starts flipping through pages.

"Anything new?" Dean asks after taking another disgusting sounding gulp.

"Yeah," Sam scrolls through the tabs on the internet browser, trying to find the news article. "There hasn't been another mass shooting in a couple of days."

"So…it's quiet…" Dean mutters as he rubs the spot between his eyebrows. "Alright, so demons and the Darkness aren't ganking anyone. How do we stop it?"

Sam rubs his face, hard, trying to get the sleep out of his eyes. "There's nothing, Dean. I've read all the books and I've looked at all the sights, and nothing."

"Maybe we're not looking at the right places…" Dean thinks for a second. Finally, an idea pops in his head. "Hey Sammy, look up something about a twisted tree."

"A what?" Sam asks. Then it finally hits him.

Sam types quickly on his keyboard. His mouse clicks every so often until finally, that giant, goofy grin spreads across his face. Dean turns the laptop to him and there, on a website about Gaelic mythology and archaeology is a picture of a twisted tree, two in fact. One tree is twisted with a hazel and oak tree, the other one is just…twisted. The second tree is black and looks like it's dying. There's a little splurge at the end, only describing what the trees represented.

Dean looks up and matches Sam's smile.

"I think it's time Gael talked," Dean says as he hits the print button for the picture.

* * *

 _Dubhlainn and Maire walk through the tall, iron clad doors. Hand in hand, they walk down the cold, stone hallway. Nothing adorned the walls, everything was plain, except for a few lanterns lighting the dark hallway. Their footsteps are quiet and slow. Gael looks up and sees a few chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, but no candles light up their way. Dubhlainn's grip on her hand tightens when they reach another set of doors._

 _They creak open._

 _There, near the back wall, green and blue drapes hang down from the wooden rafters. Between the where the two drapes touched the floor, stood an iron chair. It's plain, but there are etchings of Celtic knots around the head of the chair and the coat of arms on front of the arm rests. Below the iron chair are steps that lead down to a long, thin carpet. On the carpet was an old, wooden table. Noticing the wood, Gael recognizes it as hazel and oak. Surrounding the table are five to six men, debating over strategies._

 _The doors behind them close and all the men look up and spot Dubhlainn, but their eyes move towards Gael and they stay there. One man, who is significantly older than Dubhlainn, with long, brown and grey straggly beard, and a mane to match, stands up straight. As he pulls away from the table and walks towards them, his gait is a tad off, but his strides are strong and sure. His arms swing stiffly by his side, and his cape hangs loosely around his neck and flaps behind him subtly. He has a sword fastened to his waist and he moves one hand to the hilt. The steel armor on his shoulders faintly glimmer as the low light reflects off it. Now, he's close enough that Maire can trace the lines on his face, showing his age. But the harsh lines on his face aren't the only part of him that captures her attention._

 _Maire notices his eyes. They're brown, like Dubhlainn's, except they're harsh. Cold. Calculating. They watch every slight move Dubhlainn and Maire make. She can feel those eyes slide down her arm and land on their clasped hands._

 _Dubhlainn squeezes her hand tighter._

 _The man's eyes jerk back to hers. Maire knows he's trying to intimidate her. She won't let him. Their eyes fight a battle of dominance and will. The man is the first to look away and jerks his eyes to Dubhlainn._

" _Cé hé seo?"_ Who is this?  
 _Dubhlainn takes a deep breath and pronounces in a loud voice, "Athair, is é seo Gael . Mo bhean chéile a bheith."_ Father, this is Gael. My wife to be.

 _Dubhlainn's father's eyes sharpen and a slight sneer forms on his lips, almost hidden by his beard. A man walks up to Dubhlainn's father. He forces Dubhlainn's father to face him and nearly spits in his face._

" _Bhí orainn go leor, Ciaran ."_ We had a deal Ciaran.

 _Ciaran turns to the other man as he wipes the spittle from his rough cheek._

" _Déanann muid go fóill. Fág dúinn. Anois ."_ We still do. Leave us. Now.

 _The other men leave as well. They walk behind the blue drape and disappear. Ciaran turns to the couple and glares at his son._

" _Tá tú bean chéile. Ceann lena mbeidh an clan tairbhe go buíoch as."_ You already have a wife. One, whom, the clan will gratefully benefit from.

 _Dubhlainn doesn't say anything to his father. He only tries to stare his father down. It doesn't work._

" _Inis dom buachaill, cad is féidir do slut a dhéanamh?"_ Tell me, _boy,_ what can your slut do?

 _The muscles tighten around Dubhlainn's jaw. He wants to speak up. He_ needs _to speak up. But he can't._

" _Cad teaghlaigh bhfuil teacht aici as?"_ What family does she come from?

" _I gcás ina bhfuil a clan suite?"_ Where is her clan located?

" _Cé hé a hathair? Bhí a mháthair? A deartháireacha?"_ Who is her father? Her mother? Her siblings?

 _Dubhlainn's father doesn't give him enough time to answer his questions, spitting question after question out. Gael watches Dubhlainn as he tries to stay in control. Gael doesn't care. She turns her eyes to Ciaran and the corners of them twitch._

 _Ciaran gasps. He clutches at his throat and tries to suck in air. His eyes frantically roam Dubhlainn's face, but he sees nothing. It's not until he looks into Gael's eyes and a slight, green light glows from her irises. The man has enough strength to pull his arm up and slap the girl across the face before falling to his knees._

 _Her concentration broken, she releases her grasp on Dubhlainn's father. Dubhlainn pulls her behind him and turns his back on his father. He gently and tenderly touches her cheek. It's already starting to swell around her eye._

" _Gardaí! Gardaí!"_ Guards! Guards!

 _Ciaran yells to the best of his raspy voice's ability. A swarm of men come from every angle and surround the three of them. Ciaran only has to point his finger in Gael's direction and the men are already on her. They roughly grab her arms and drag her out._

 _Gael tries to throw them off by jerking her body around, but the use of what little power she has, drained her. Instead she screams Dubhlainn's name. Over and over._

" _Dubhlainn! Dubhlainn! DUBHLAINN!"_

 _The rest of the men have to hold Dubhlainn back, trying his damndest to fight through them. He screams Gael's name. Over and over._

" _Gael! Gael! GAEL!"_

 _Their screams are desperate. Their screams are pleading. Their screams are begging._

 _Ciaran stands up and forces his son to look at him in the face. His father roughly grabs Dubhlainn by the chin and forces him to look Ciaran in the eyes. There, in Dubhlainn's pupil is a tree. Trunks twisting together. The mark is faint, but it's there._

 _A cruel, slimy smile spreads across his face._

" _Feicim. Mar sin tá go bhfuil tú tar éis titim atá atá i ngrá leis."_ I see. So that's who've you've fallen in love with.

 _Ciaran drags Dubhlainn's face closer to his._

" _Tá tú ag dul a insint dom gach rud a fhios agat faoi a."_ You're going to tell me everything about her.

* * *

 _Night time has fallen and Gael is still sitting in a wooden cage. Her legs are pulled up and her face rests on her knees. She shouldn't have done that. She lost control. She shouldn't have done it. Shouldn't have done it. Shouldn't have…_

 _Her thoughts are disturbed when jingling keys draw her attention, she doesn't look up though. The jingle jangle of the keys notify her that they have entered the lock. A click then informs her that the lock has been opened. The grating creaks of the hinges tell her that the cage door is open._

 _A hand is placed upon her shoulder and its warmth spreads through her._

 _She still doesn't look up._

 _"Gael, tá sé in am dul abhaile."_ Gael, it's time to go home.

 _Another warm hand touches her cheek and forces her to look up into the face of the man she loves._

* * *

Gael's head lifts up and turns to see the two Winchester brothers standing there. In Dean's hand is a picture of two trees. One with a twisted trunk of two trees becoming one and the other is a black, deadened tree.

Dean and Sam enter the room and Gael's tired eyes follow them in. Dean grabs the only chair and pulls it around to face her while Sam sits on the bed next to her. Dean shoves the picture in Gael's face.

"Now, you're going to tell us what you know," Dean states, dropping the picture in Gael's lap. "And that means _everything_."

Gael takes the picture in her hands. A single tear peeks out of one of her eyes. She clutches the picture tightly in both hands and draws them to her chest.

She nods her head. "Okay."

* * *

 **Sorry this took me so long you guys. I've been working on class projects and I haven't been sleeping and, let's face it, I had a hard time writing this chapter. There's so much going on and I'm taking you all over the place, but you have to admit that it's nice to take a stroll out of the bunker and away from the brothers. Anyways, this chapter is the longest I've written, because I wanted to take my time and to make sure I gave all the characters enough time to say what they needed to say. I sense that the end is nigh. Anyways, please leave a review and tell me how I'm doing, because at this point I just have zero idea what I'm doing, or even if you guys like it. That's it for now. I may put another chapter up, I'm not sure, but I need sleep, that I do know.**


	17. Chapter 17

**Okay, so explanation at the end of the chapter. ONWARD AND OFFWARD!  
**

* * *

 **Chapter 17**

Gael looks down at her hands as they lie in her lap. Dean and Sam have both pulled up chairs, just waiting for her to start somewhere. Closing her eyes, Gael takes a deep breath. She's never told her story before. This, this would be the first time in a very, _very_ long time. She opens her eyes and they land on the two brothers, sitting and waiting.

She opens her mouth and then closes it again. Her lower lip trembles.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I'm trying to force the words out, but no matter how hard I push, they won't."

Sam leans forward and gently places a hand on top of hers. Gael looks up, her eyes just a tad shiny. Sam gives her one of his small smiles and gently coaxes her. "We're ready whenever you are."

Dean doesn't say anything. He just sits and watches as Gael nods her head and tries again.

"My mom, my birth mother, I mean," Gael clarifies, her eyes darting up to the brothers for a second then back down to her hands. "She, um, she left me to Maire when I was baby."

"Do you know why?" Sam asks, his dark eyes searching her face.

Gael closes her eyes and shakes her head. "I had no interest to learn of the woman who left me. Though, she didn't leave me to die, I guess that counts for something. Anyways," Gael stops to take a breath, "Maire became my true mother. She took me in and she raised me." A small, sad smile crosses her face. "One day, I was screaming so loudly, that I drew the attention of a small boy who was out adventuring in the sacred woods. He knew I was hungry and went to find me something to eat. After that, he became a part of our small family. He taught me how to hunt, how to fight," she stops for a couple of seconds and takes another deep breath, "and he also taught me how to live, I guess."

Sam and Dean look at each other and wonder, for just a moment, what it would have been like if they never had each other. Sure, they've fought, argued, and walked out on each other, but they always came back together at the end. Brothers.

They give their attention back to Gael.

"When we were older and he was of a marriageable age, his father betrothed him to daughter of a clan leader, but he didn't want that. Instead, he asked me what if I would be his."

"Let me guess," Dean interrupts, "you said yes and you two lived happily ever after."

"Yes," Gael answers, "I said yes, but the happily ever after never came." She remembers the day, very clearly, when they became each other's. "He took me into a town and it was so glorious. I've never seen anything like it before. All I knew about the world was the solitude and peacefulness of the sacred forest, but this town," a huge smile appears on her face, "was loud and rambunctious and there were so many _people_ and so many smells, I didn't know where to go first!"

"What happened?" Sam asks.

"He took me to meet his father, the clan's leader," Gael drops her smile. "He said, horrible things, but when I got angry my powers started to suffocate him and I almost killed him." Gael darkly chuckles at the memory. "His father wasn't so fond of it."

"Why?" Sam asks again, the only one of the brothers willing to talk.

"He threw me in wooden cage that's meant for misbehaving slaves and left me there for hours," Gael turns her sad eyes towards the bedroom door, just wanting to lose herself within her mind. "My husband-to-be, I guess you can call him, came to get me and he walked me home. But what happened afterwards…" Gael stops and the two brothers can see that's she's trying her damnedest to control her anger, by her jaw moving around and her puckering her lips now and again. "No one should have to go through that." She looks directly at Dean. "No one."

"Gael," Sam says, leaning forward once more, "what's his name?"

Shocked, Gael turns her eyes and latches onto Sam. "What?"

"You've been dancing around his name," Sam says, trying to keep his voice gentle.

A couple of minutes pass. She hasn't said his name in years. Actually, she hasn't said his name after what happened. After what she did. So, how is she supposed to say his name after fifteen hundred years? Closing her eyes once more, she takes a deep breath and holds it in. When she believes she's ready, she lets the air out.

"Dubhlainn," she whispers quietly. The name sounds foreign on her tongue. "His name is Dubhlainn."

"What happened to Dubhlainn?" Sam asks.

Gael squeezes her eyes even tighter and her hands clutch the hem of the shirt. Finally, she opens her eyes as a single tear escapes.

"The Darkness happened," she says.

* * *

 _Dubhlainn walks back into the room, where his father and a few other of his trusted advisors surround the table. His father points his finger to a map and moves it around, planning out attacks and strategizing them. They talk amongst each other in hushed tones. Dubhlainn clears his throat. Ciaran turns his head to look at his son. He stands upright and strides across the stone floor, his animal cloak dragging behind him._

 _Ciaran stops an arm length away from Dubhlainn. His father's harsh eyes run up and down his form. He takes in his son's dirty boots and roams up his disheveled clothes all the way to his wind, whipped hair. Distasteful. No matter, he will make a proper son out of Dubhlainn yet._

" _Teacht. Táimid ag fágáil."_ Come. We are leaving.

 _His father and his advisors walk past him towards the huge, double doors. Dubhlainn doesn't move. He places his hand on the hilt of his sword and keeps his back to his father. Looking back, Ciaran sees that his son has not moved. What a disobedient brat._

" _Ní bheidh mé arís mé féin."_ I will not repeat myself.

 _Dubhlainn slowly turns around. The look on his face is one of a warrior. Ciaran would be proud if only it wasn't directed at him. Dubhlainn is ready to fight. He'll protect that girl, even if her only usefulness is finding that goddamned tree. Now, his son has turned into a man, willing to fight anyone for anything. The two men stare at each other._

" _Níl mé ag dul in áit ar bith in éineacht leat."_ I'm not going anywhere with you.

 _His father tilts his head in mere amusement. To think, his son is still_ so _naïve._

" _Ní chreidim thug mé tú rogha."_ I don't believe I gave you a choice.

 _Ciaran's men surround Dubhlainn, swords out and at the ready. Dubhlainn follows their lead and pulls out his sword and holds it up, aiming it at Ciaran. His father can't help but laugh at the foolishness of his son._

 _Worthless._

 _Ciaran turns his back on his son and walks out the door. The faint sounds of swords clashing and clanging follow in his stead. With a cruel smile, twisting his scarred features, he thinks of the power his son will soon have. It is time now. Time to grow stronger._

* * *

 _Dubhlainn wakes up. His hazy, heavy eyes try to open and remain that way. But it's difficult. Finally being able to lift his head, he looks around at his surroundings. Enveloped in trees and kneeling in dirt, Dubhlainn takes in the sight of what stands in front of him. A black, rotting tree. The bark oozes a black sap. The branches hang dangerously low and dangerously high, ready to snag any living thing. The smell was one of rot. Not of animals and not of plants, but of people. The smell of rotting corpses emits from the tree and it burns Dubhlainn's nose as the wind purposely propels the smell at him._

 _The six advisors circle around the tree and Dubhlainn, quietly chanting. The words, they don't make sense. They're grunts and vowels smashed together. There's no pattern in their words. It all sounds random and…chaotic._

 _But Ciaran? Where is his father? His eyes dart everywhere until they stand still. A sharp edge lines along his neck. Dubhlainn holds still. His father grips his hair, tightly, and walks around until he faces his son and leans down to look into those eyes. Those eyes that will soon tell the immense power his family shall have!_

 _The chanting continues as his father lifts up Dubhlainn's right arm and slowly slices it open. He cups his hands underneath and catches as much as he can. He throws Dubhlainn and walks away as his son falls on his back. Ciaran walks up to the tree and gently pours the blood from his hands. Grunts and sounds escape his father's mouth. Ciaran steps back and watches as the tree comes alive. It twists its trunk and waves its branches._

 _Ciaran raises his arms and announces loudly, "Tháinig mé, ar a bhfuil tú bronntanas!"_ I have come, bearing you a gift!

 _Dubhlainn crawls back to stand on his knees and watches as his father turns back to him. Ciaran picks Dubhlainn by the scruff of his neck and pulls Dubhlainn to his feet. He drags his son over._

" _Uimh! Athair! Cad atá ar siúl agat?"_ No! Father! What are you doing?

 _His father stops in front of the tree. He yanks his son's right arm up and places it on the tree. The black ooze soon touches his fingertips and sluggishly moves its way up his fingers. Dubhlainn's eyes widen in horror, but it's the immediate pain that he holds his tongue. The black ooze feels as if it's burning off his skin and eating his bones. He looks at Ciaran, begging with his eyes to let him go._

" _Tá mé ag déanamh seo dúinn. Chun ár teaghlaigh."_ I am doing this for us. For our family.

 _Dubhlainn tries to fight back, but soon, the black ooze is allowing his hand to sink into the bark of the tree._

" _Leis an gcumhacht chomhiomlán na gcrann, mar theaghlach, clan, beidh muid conquer go léir."_ With the combined power of the trees, as a family, a clan, we will conquer all.

 _Dubhlainn shakes his head as his arm sinks deeper into the tree and the pain sinks deeper into him._

" _Athair, le do thoil. Nach bhfuil."_ Father, please. Don't.

 _Ciaran just smiles at his son and let go. He takes a step back and watches as his son can no longer contain his pain and screams._

 _The sound echoes up into the sky, scaring birds from their homes and sending animals out of hiding. The clouds shake and the wind picks up._

" _Tá mé tar éis fanacht ar feadh an lá seo. Ó shin i leith dúirt go draoi dom an finscéal an dá crainn. Mé tar éis fanacht. Anois, fan liom nach bhfuil níos mó."_ I have waited for this day. Ever since that druid told me the legend of the two trees. I have waited. Now, I wait no more.

 _Dubhlainn's head throws itself back as the black ooze moves quicker down his arm and over his shoulder. It climbs up his neck and crawls into his mouth. A wet, sticky, slimy feeling presses itself inside Dubhlainn's mind, becoming fully conscious._

 _Dia duit, buachaill._ Hello, boy.

 _The voice inside his head slicks and slides all over his mind and his soul. He can_ feel _it as circles his soul and traps it. Dubhlainn can feel a force pushing him inside a tight compartment._

 _No, níl mé ag iarraidh seo._ No, I don't want this.

 _Even now, Dubhlainn will beg as he is shoved further and further inside a box. He can hear his soul screaming for help, reaching out to anyone or anything that is willing to hear him. But nothing happens. He is shoved inside the box within himself and is locked in._

 _Ní chuireann sé ábhar a thabhairt duit._ It doesn't matter what you want.

 _The slimy, slick voice gently caresses the box that now holds Dubhlainn inside._

 _Dubhlainn's arm pulls itself free from the tree. And there, is a hole. Proof that the Darkness has broken free. A wound that shall never heal, no matter how much time has passed._

 _The Darkness rolls Dubhlainn's head and neck, stretching them out. Finally, turning to Ciaran, he opens his eyes. The whites of Dubhlainn's eyes remain, but his brown iris's turn black._

 _A thin, long smile stretches across The Darkness's face and says._

 _"Tá sé in am."_ It is time.

* * *

 _Gael falls to her knees as she clutches her at her chest. It feels as if someone has shoved their arm into her chest and is slowly pulling out her heart. She looks up and sees darkness spreading across the blue sky. Something is on its way. And she's pretty sure it's coming for her and Maire._

* * *

Crowley can hear tinkling sounds coming from the covered hallway. The creature is muttering to itself, granted not quietly. Quick, little footsteps approach through the leave curtain and the little fairy thing is carrying a tray. It has many vials of what smells like blood. Also what looks like syringes are piled on top of the vials.

The creature pulls over a small table, which has the tray of blood and needles, and walks up the steps to Crowley. The creature yanks on the cuffs that have Crowley tied down. As the creature reaches over to check the cuff furthest from him, Crowley gets a nice look into its eyes. They don't have the bright, mischievous green as perusal. Instead, they are serious and saddening. The creature goes to yank on the cuffs on his feet.

Knowing for sure that they are secured, the imp fairy thing picks up a vial and looks at it.

"What are you going to do with that?" Crowley asks.

The creature turns its huge eyes to him. "I'm going to give you what you once wanted."

"What's that?"

The creature doesn't blink as it says, "Your humanity."

"No," Crowley whispers. He starts to struggle in his cuffs, but it's no use. "I don't want to do this! I don't want this!"

"You must hold still," the creature places a needle near a vein in Crowley's neck. "It's already going to hurt worse since this happened before. Now hold still!"

Crowley stops moving and looks at his tormentor. "You've done this before?"

The creature doesn't reply. Instead, he shoves the needle into Crowley's neck. And Crowley screams and he screams.

* * *

 **Okay, I know I'm really late, like a week late, but I had to rework this chapter and rework it. I have the next ready to go, but there are just a few things I have to clean up on it. The chapter should be up sometime tomorrow. Anyways, thanks for being patient. Please leave a review, favorite and follow, and I promise not to let school or life get in the way of writing. Because this, this is the only thing that's keeping me sane right now.**


	18. Chapter 18

**And now, ladies and gents, the moment you all have been waiting for! I won't detain you for long, but here it is, as promised, the second chapter for this week. Please review, favorite, follow, PM me. Just let me know that you like it, okay? Also, I have been working and reworking this chapter ever since I put the first one up. ENJOY! NOW ONWARD AND OFFWARD!**

* * *

 **Chapter 18**

Gael is looking down at her sock covered feet. Her eyes closed as she tries to hold back the tears. Her face is scrunched together and she takes a giant gulp of air that sounds like a strangled hiccup.

Dean and Sam wait. They wait for her to continue. They wait for her to talk. But she doesn't.

"What next Gael?" Sam whispers, gently breaking the silence. "What happened next?"

Gael shakes her head. It was a horrible idea to tell the story. She doesn't want to relive it. She doesn't want to see what she's done. She especially doesn't want to see what became of her.

"We need to know," Dean pushes. "This is about saving the world!"

Gael lifts her head and her eyes glare at Dean.

"I know," she growls. "I know that the world needs saving. Just…just give me a minute, please."

Sam places a hand on Dean's arm. Dean looks at his brother and sees Sam shake his head. This story is about a loved one, probably one that died. They both know how telling a story like that is. It's hard. It feels suffocating. It feels constricting. There are no words to describe what they felt at that time or what they saw. Sometimes, in the heat of the moment, you don't know.

Gael takes a shuttering breath and looks down at her feet. Sam prods again.

"What happened next Gael?"

Gael closes her eyes and opens her mouth. "They found me. Dubhlainn led his father and men to me and to Maire."

She looks up at them, tears lining the inside of her eyes. "They came for Maire."

* * *

 _Gael stands in front of the twisted tree as the group of warriors surround her. Dubhlainn stands by his father, holding a black sword, blackened, held tight in his hand. The harsh wind rips at the men, trying to force them to fall. Gael's form is still as she stands in the eye of the storm. Dirt, leaves, branches, circle her, threatening to take anyone out._

" _Cén fáth a bhfuil tú ag déanamh seo?"_ Why are you doing this?

 _Dubhlainn's father, leader of his clan, steps forward. "Bog ar leataobh cailín."_ Move aside, girl.

 _Gael doesn't move. She will never leave her mother. They'll have to get through her first._

 _Gael's hazel eyes land on Dubhlainn, as he just stands there, not moving. He doesn't protest. He doesn't fight. He just watches in amusement, as if this little altercation is nothing but entertainment for him. But, that doesn't stop her to pleading him._

 _"Dubhlainn, le do thoil . Ná seo a dhéanamh ."_ Dubhlainn, please. Don't do this.

 _He raises an eyebrow, as if her pleading him,_ begging _him, was also amusing. He walks forward, to the precipice of the barricading wind, and his eyes…his pupils were black and something in Gael broke._

 _She feels her throat closing and a burning sensation behind her eyes. This thing isn't her Dubhlainn. Her chest feels tight and she wants to scream. She wants to smash something. She wants to cry and tell him everything that's in her heart. One particular thing she never had the courage to tell him. His mop of brown, curly hair whips around his face._

 _"Bhí a fhios agam go raibh mo mhac tábhachtach an lá a rugadh é." His father explains, as he walks around the tree._ I knew my son was important the day he was born. _"Ach ní raibh a fhios agam cé chomh tábhachtach go dtí gur tháinig a Druid agus dúirt sé liom de chrann cumhachtach , scoilt as a leath eile."_ But I didn't know how important until a Druid came and told me of a powerful tree, split from its other half. _"Conas le chéile an dá mbeadh a dhéanamh ar mo mhac an is cumhachtaí a bheith ar fud an domhain."_ How combing both would make my son the most powerful being in the world. _"Cén chaoi a raibh mo mhac láidir go leor chun é go bhfuil an chumhacht sin_." How my son was strong enough to contain such power. _"Bheadh sé a bheith in ann a rialú a thabhairt ar fud an domhain."_ He would be able to rule the world.

 _Gael feels the tears stream down her face. Maire grows angry with every passing word. The man has broken one of the other keys to retain the power of the darkness. Dubhlainn's father continues to brag, proud how the Darkness has chosen his son. Gael doesn't care._

 _Mo ghrá._ My love.

 _Gael feels the comforting words from her mother._

 _Ní mór dúinn stop a chur leo._ We must stop them.

 _A group of men try to break through the force field of wind and debris. They lean forward, clutching their choice of weapons tightly in their hands. Their feet slide against the loose dirt and rubble. Boulders and branches swish around them._

 _They break through._

 _Only a few though. Gael lifts her sword in a fighting stance. One man yells as he runs towards her. She twirls around, skirt flying around her. The blade glances past her. She swings her sword and slices through the man's stomach._

 _Another charges her as she stands up. She blocks the slash over her head, falling to a knee. She shoves back. Swords clang as the two fight. The man is swinging harder and harder at her, but Gael holds her own. She leans back when the man tries to slice her neck. She grabs his wrist, pulls him towards her and shoves her sword into his stomach._

 _The last man comes from behind and grabs her. Gael drops her sword and clutches at his arm. She stomps on his foot. Elbows him in the stomach. Turns, takes his head and slams it into her knee. The man falls. She picks up her sword. She walks over to the man, who is grabbing his face. Gael grabs his hair and pulls his head back. She lays the edge of her blade along his throat and quickly drags it across._

 _The men's lifeless bodies are littered around her and their blood is dragged towards Dubhlainn. She watches as it ripples across the ground. She looks up and takes a step towards her mother. She picks up her sword and points it at him._

 _He has broken through._

 _A sick, satisfied smile twists Dubhlainn's face as he closes his eyes and opens his arms. Embracing the sacrifice of those who fought as the blood weaves itself around his legs and up his torso. It dances all the way up to his face and he opens his mouth. He takes in the blood. Once it's all gone, he opens his eyes and tilts his head, the smile returns to his face._

 _"Go raibh maith agat, le haghaidh an bronntanas chineál."_ Thank you, for the kind gift.

 _Gael tightens her grip on her sword and lowers the point. Dubhlainn walks from side to side, slowly, as he contemplates how to get near the tree. Gael stays still and her eyes move with him. He twirls his sword around and without missing a beat, he lunges for Gael._

 _Gael barely catches the movement, but blocks it. Dubhlainn doesn't have to use most of his strength to push her down. However, Gael has to use everything she's got to slide her sword away from him. She succeeds in unbalancing him and kicks his feet from underneath him. He falls to his knees, his black sword's point in the ground. He looks up at her. Gael has her sword raised. She's about to bring it down upon the man's head._

 _Níl mo iníon._ No my daughter.

 _Ní féidir leat a mharú dó._ You can't kill him.

 _Gael looks up towards the twisted trunks._

 _That_ slight _hesitation is all it takes._

 _Dubhlainn puts up his sword and shoves it through her abdomen. Gael's eyes widen as she takes in Dubhlainn's dark eyes. She looks down and blinks at the sight of a sword sticking out of her. Her sword drops from her hands. She places a hand on top of Dubhlainn's and clutches at it._

 _"Dubhlainn," her eyes say the rest._

 _Maire lets out a roar, but it's more like the wind is howling. Tearing at tree tops, uprooting them from their homes, where they have been for hundreds of years. The ground rumbles and tears itself apart. Men fall. Some hang onto trees with all their might. Others are torn away from where they stand, flung over tree tops. The sacred ground around Maire and Gael splits and encircles them._

 _Her eyes never leave his. Never wavering. The sword is pulled out and she stumbles back, against her mother. Her hand gingerly touches the trunk._

 _Gael, Maire pleads inside her daughter's head, Beidh sé a bheith ceart go leor._ It'll be okay.

 _"Máthair , a thabhairt liom tú cead."_ Mother, I give you permission.

 _Gael. Uimh._ Gael, no.

 _"Mé a thabhairt duit cead é a úsáid dom mar soitheach."_ I give you permission to use me as a vessel.

 _Gael, her mother pleads to her._

 _Uimh._ No.

 _"Tuigim na contúirtí agus na hiarmhairtí."_ I understand the dangers and the consequences.

 _Gael yells all of this at the top of her lungs, so the men can hear her. She watches as Dubhlainn's face changes from amusement to anger in a second. It is important to say these words, so that they will know the implications of their actions. Of their choices. If it's strong power against strong power, Gael will protect what she has left. She will protect her mother. She will fight for her mother. Gael understands that too much power will burn her up, set her body on fire. But she needs to protect this world. She has to._

 _Máthair , le do thoil , Gael sends her thoughts to her mother, ba mhaith liom a choinneáil slán leat._ Mother, please. I want to keep you safe.

 _Maire senses Gael's reasons and decides that if this is the only way to protect her daughter, she will do it. Gael has tried many times to get Maire to join her, so that she too can see the world. Maire always refused. But she can't now, not when her daughter is dying. She must save her, at all cost._

 _Go han-mhaith._ Very well.

 _Gael places her hand on her mother's twisting trunks. Her head shoots back. Her hand seeps into the tree and a green glow emits from the entrance. The hole in her stomach is healing as the green wisps dance around her arm. Her mouth opens, as do her eyes, and the green glow shines through. Gael pushes Maire to the back of her mind as Gael feels her join her. She has to do this. She must be the one to put Dubhlainn down._

 _Gael stands up, her hand now free from the tree. Her eyes glow a harsh emerald green. Soon, everything Maire knows pushes through Gael's mind, as they meld into one. She learns how to call upon Maire's magic and knows how to use it. She calms the wind with her mind and everything settles._

 _Gael calls upon the sacred elements of the world. Water from a nearby river rolls over the ground. It wraps its fingers around the remaining men and pulls them to it. They fight and they struggle, trying to kick away the watery tendrils. Gael doesn't move her eyes from Dubhlainn. He smirks, not really caring what happens to the others. She ignores the screams of the men as the water drags them away, the gurgling screams dying as they drown. The earth breaks open and clutches at Dubhlainn's father's feet. He is now hindered, the earth too strong to break away._

 _Gael turns to him, her eyes still glow that magnificent, harsh, emerald green. She doesn't say anything. She doesn't need to. He knows that she's going to kill him. The ground starts pulling down. Dubhlainn's father looks up at her in terror. She's going to bury him alive. She watches has he tries to swing his sword, to fight the ground. It does nothing. The ground closes up over him, covering his screeches as he curses and begs._

 _Silence._

 _Gael returns to Dubhlainn. They watch each other. He puts down his sword and raises his hands as if surrendering._

 _"Mo grá," he says._ My love.

 _Gael's head lowers in a threatening manner, the green in her eyes growing stronger. Her power shoves him back and locks him against a tree. He's not Dubhlainn, but she sees him._

 _Gael's new vision shows her what's inside. A dark mist swirls around, knotting everything up. It's pricking and prodding the soul. It tortures Dubhlainn's soul. She can hear him screaming inside, begging for death. To be let go. Gael knows what she has to do, but she doesn't want to._

 _The power holding the Darkness still tightens around him._

 _"Ligean dó dul."_ Let him go.

 _It's a command._

 _The Darkness smirks and tilts his head, just a little, and Gael is shoved back. Her concentration is broken and the Darkness is free from its hold. Gael stands up. Her skirt is torn and her hair is tangle mess. Her face is covered in dirt and her hands are bloody. She wipes at her mouth and holds his gaze. She stands up and lifts her hand and releases power that could kill her. The Darkness does the same._

 _They both release power in its raw and true form. Black tendrils shoot out of the Darkness's hand and clashes with the green. As the raw powers collide with each other, they both shoot upwards. Gael pushes her hands forward, trying her best to overpower the Darkness. He pushes harder. But it's not enough._

 _Gael uses the wind to her advantage, blinding him with dust and pelting him with rocks and branches. The Darkness has a lot of power, but his cockiness gets the best of him, as does his inexperience of the ancient powers. The source of power inside him has been locked up for so long, the power is uncontrollable._

 _The ground holds on his feet, as it forces him to sink to his knees. Gael knows what she has to do. She must cleanse the darkness from him. A small fire starts at the grass, but it slowly grows taller and hotter. The Darkness struggles to get out, but the fire cinches closer to him. He starts to sweat. The fire grows stronger as she turns. He watches her black silhouette move towards the broken tree. The ground has healed itself, burying any of the men that had fallen. The fire finally closes in around the Darkness. It crawls up his form, consuming him as the power is consuming Gael._

 _The Darkness finally breaks free from the earth, but the fire keeps its claws deep rooted into his skin. The fire crawls down to his legs and spirals around his waist. The fiery snake is squeezing the life of him, the pain unbearable, and capturing his breath is futile. He forces his burning legs to move over to Gael._

 _He stands behind her and grabs her to him and holds on._

 _"Má tá mé ag a dhó, ansin tá sin leat."_ If I'm burning, then so are you.

 _Gael struggles as she tries to free herself. This isn't how she wants to die. She can smell the fire singing her clothes. It's only a matter of time before it starts to burn her._

No _, a thought interrupts the Darkness inside. The thought fights its way through, the soul's presence slaughtering anything that's in its way. The Darkness lets go of Gael and clutches at his head._

No. _The persistent thought keeps pushing through until the Darkness couldn't hold back. The thought repeats itself over and over again until the soul comes forth._

 _"Gael," a voice whispers._

 _Gael tumbles away from the Darkness and watches his hunched over form. He forces himself to stand up. She looks up at him and there, emerald, green eyes stare at her._

 _"Ní gá duit mórán ama."_ You don't have much time.

 _His voice leaves his mouth, but it's not him. It's Maire._

 _"Tá tú chun é go bhfuil dó."_ You have to contain him.

 _Contain him, plays over and over in her head. She knows what she has to do. Gael pleads and begs to her mother not to make her do this._

 _"Ní féidir liom a choinneáil ag troid ig."_ I can't keep fighting him off.

 _Maire's eyes beg her. Gael sucks back the tears that threaten to come through and she nods her head. She pushes her mother towards the tree._

" _Ná bíodh imní ort, mo 'níon, ní bheidh mé a fhágann tú."_ Don't worry, my daughter, I won't leave you.

 _Gael nods her head once more. She shoves the Darkness's body inside the tree. Maire exits his body and reenters hers. Gael watches as the Darkness takes control over her love's body once more. She watches as the Darkness's eyes glare at her. But before he can do anything, she places her hand on the trunk._

 _She closes her eyes and the trunk closes over him. Her hands meld with it and she forces it down. The ground shakes and cracks to make space. She uses all her and Maire's strength and shoves the tree down, until the crown is covered._

 _Silence fills the air as a certain hollowness fills her. Her face remains neutral. No tears. No sobbing. She feels nothing as she stares at the permanent scar. The power and strength leave her and she falls to the ground, her knees catching her. But once she touches the ground, it ripples from her and moves outward. Trees are uprooted and mountains are moved._

 _She stays like that, until her body finally gives up and collapses. She lays on her side, not blinking. Not moving. Just looking at the sewn up ground._

 _She starts to feel her insides breaking. Gael starts to feel as if something is tearing at her chest, while trying to get to her heart. She feels her body start to heat up as she lies on the ground. But she shoves it all down. No wrecking sobs. No ear splitting screams. Just silence._

 _And a girl slowly killing herself._

 _Maire is still inside and she feels it. She feels everything that Gael is. But she closes herself off, to let her daughter mourn in silence. And she waits._


	19. Chapter 19

**Alright you guys, here is the next chapter. I literally had no idea what I was going to write for this. I mean, I had everything planned up to the last chapter, so this...this was a "let's see what happens if I just sit and write...hopefully it's not complete shit..." anyways, this is what came out. Now, the first part of this chapter does talk about suicide. I know it's a very sensitive subject, so this is a warning. If you're not okay, then I suggest you don't read the first part. However, I am wondering if you guys would like me to write a description of what Gael did other than having Maire explain it. I wasn't sure if you guys wanted that or not, so I didn't. But this is a rough draft and it is up for changes. Anyways, please favorite, follow, review and/or PM me. I love hearing from you! Now, ONWARD AND OFFWARD!  
**

* * *

 **Chapter 19**

Dean sits on a stool inside of the car port. He takes a sip of beer. He holds the neck of the bottle loosely in his fingers and lets it dangle between his knees. The other, older cars were moved to the sides in order to allow space for the broken Impala. The two halves sit in the middle of the room, the metal ripped and shredded.

Dean takes another sip of beer.

He'll have to fix it again. Put it back together again, make it whole. But it's okay. He's done it before. He's put it together once before, he can do it again. He can fix it again.

Another sip.

Dean wipes his mouth on his arm. He hangs his head and takes a deep breath. This is nothing new. He's used to fixing things. It's his job. It's one of the things he's good at. Fixing things.

This time Dean takes a gulp.

He wipes his forehead. His eyes move back up to the broken car. His broken baby. Broken.

Another gulp. Another breath. Another gulp. Great, now his bottle is empty.

He tosses the glass bottle away. It shatters against the stone wall and the broken pieces litter the ground. Dean reaches down in the cooler next to him, opens the lid, pulls out a beer, pops the lid off, and takes a sip.

"Is this going to become a thing for ye?"

Dean is beyond being startled. He doesn't look back, but feels Maire moving around him and taking a seat on the ground next to him. He ignores her.

"Are ye going to fix it?"

Dean takes a sip.

Maire looks up at him with her vessel's blue eyes. They're looking for something, he can feel them. She's not going to find anything. He won't let her. Noticing that she's not going to get anything from him, she turns her eyes back to the broken vehicle.

"I know Gael told ye what happened," Maire says. She pulls her knees up to her chest and hugs them. "But, she didn't tell ye what happened after."

Dean takes a sip of beer.

"She was broken," Maire continues, her voice growing soft. "More broken than I've ever seen anyone become."

She turns her eyes to Dean, a small smile spreading on the young girl's face. "Until I met ye two idiots. Fixing things only to have them broken again."

The fingers around the bottle's neck tighten, Dean's knuckles turning white.

"Ye see," Maire turns her attention back to the vehicle. "Gael's world was broken and torn from her. She died that day, I felt it. I felt my daughter die and there was nothing I could do."

Dean finally looks over at Maire. The vessel's young face is smoothed over and her eyes are a million miles away. But he did notice the tightness in her jaw, trying to gain some sort of control.

"She felt my power and she used it to destroy Dubhlainn's entire clan," her voice sounds strained and tears are threatening. "I've seen empires burn, but this," Maire shakes her head, "this was complete and utter destruction. No survivors. Every woman, man, and babe…dead."

Dean looks away and takes a sip of beer, this time the alcohol catching in his throat.

"I tried to stop her, but she locked me out," Maire's hands grab her wrists, trying to hold on. "That was her goal ye know," Maire whispers.

Dean puts the beer down on the concrete floor and clasps his hands, still not wanting to talk.

"Do ye know what it's like to be inside of someone, hell bent on killing themselves?" Maire puts her forehead down on her knees.

Seconds pass. Then minutes. Soon, an hour.

"Why?"

Maire looks up at the person who spoke in the raspy voice. "Why what?"

Dean finally looks into her eyes. Something inside his green eyes is different. Almost as if something inside him is broken too. His eyes look tired and worn out. They just want to rest.

"Why are you telling me this?"

Maire stands up and wipes her hands on her pajama bottoms. She looks down at him. "Anything can be broken, but fixing…it has to be worth it."

Maire turns around and starts to walk off, but she stops. "Was she worth it?"

Maire looks over her shoulders. Dean feels a something inside of his head, telling him to turn and look up. He does. Their eyes once more locked. "She is and she's not the only one worth it."

With that, Maire walks out of the garage. Dean watches as she walks off.

His attention is brought back to his baby, the Impala. His picks up the beer bottle, but he doesn't take a drink. Instead, he just thinks.

* * *

Finishing flipping through the books, Sam rubs at his tired eyes. He presses the heel of his palm into his eyes, trying to release some sort of pressure. He holds in the deep sigh that has threatened to escape in the last couple hours.

"Find anything new?" A guttural voice shakes Sam.

His head jerks up. There, sitting in front of him, is the angel. "Did you hear everything?"

Castiel nods his head, his eyes looking forlorn. The slight wrinkles around them are more prominent. "Maire explained it to me. Now what?"

"I don't know," Sam says, closing the book in front of him. "I've been through everything and I just…I just don't know where to go from here."

Sam looks at the angel. His head is hanging low and his shirt and trench coat are more disheveled than usual. "Have you been able to find the other vessels?"

The angel shakes his head. "There haven't been any more killings. We don't know where to look next."

"See, that's what I don't get," Sam says more to himself than to Cas.

"What?"

"This guy," Sam waves a hand around while the other rubs his forehead, "he kills, massacres, thousands of people for over a month and then all of the sudden, the killings stop. Why?"

Cas's brows furrow together. He places his hands on the table and starts fiddling with a few loose papers with articles written on them. "Maybe he was looking for someone?"

Sam also furrows his brows. He takes the articles from Cas and looks at them. He flips through them again and again. His movements becoming faster with each pass. Then. It hits him.

"He was hunting powerful vessels, right?" Sam asks.

Cas's brow straightens up and then slowly rises as it dawns on him. "He didn't know that Gael would still be alive."

"He had to look for vessels powerful enough to contain Maire."

"Once he found her, he'd be able to become one with her."

Sam shoots up from his seat. "He'd be able to destroy, not just the world, but maybe the whole universe."

Cas matches Sam's motion and stands up. "But how did he get out?"

"Ever heard of the witch Rowina?" An Irish accent carries across the room.

Both men turn and look over at Maire. "She let him out."

"But…why?" Cas asks, looking back over at Sam.

"What's the one thing that Rowina has always wanted?" Sam asks, his eyes moving back over to Cas.

"Power."

* * *

Blurry. Everything is too bloody blurry. Crowley's head moves from side to side, trying to clear his vision. His entire nervous system is on edge and it feels like someone is sending an electric shock throughout his entire body.

A figure is standing over him. Red, bushy hair and a stupid green hat. Crowley let out a low groan. Cold fingers are pressed into his neck over his pulse. They move up to his forehead and the fingers lie flat. Finally, his vision restores itself and he sees the fairy creature thing standing over him, a look of relief on its face.

It pulls its hand away and steps down the ladder. Crowley looks down at himself and sees sweat drenching his new, used to be favorite, suit. Looking down at his arms, he sees small cuts lining up. They weren't healing. His wounds weren't healing.

"I had to make sure it worked," the squeaky voice says.

"No," Crowley's voice barely comes out as a whisper. "No."

"It was for your own good."

"No," his voice comes out a little bit louder.

The creature walks over with a big spoon of water. It forces Crowley to drink it. The liquid dribbles down his chin and flows down his throat. He hasn't had water in a very long time. He's forgotten how refreshing it can be. No. No. He can't be human. He doesn't want to be human. These emotions, panic, fear, anger, sadness, are too overwhelming. He doesn't them. He doesn't want any of them.

"No," his voice comes out stronger this time.

Crowley starts pulling and kicking at his restraints, trying to break free. But the leather burns against his wrists and ankles as the fabric rubs against them. Tears start to well up. No. He won't cry. He absolutely refuses to cry. He'd rather _die_ than to cry. But his humanity wouldn't allow him. Instead, the strong demon, now turned human, broke. He broke down and cried as he twisted from side to side to break free.

"NO! NO! NO! NONONONONONONO!"


	20. Chapter 20

**Shitty chapter is shitty. I'm working through a writer's block and I had to get the characters moving to where they need to be. Hopefully it doesn't suck as much as I think it does...but it probably sucks more. But the thing is, there's only a few more chapters left till the end and you guys, I've reached past 150 pages in my word document...awesome, right? Anyways, review, follow, favorite, or pm me. I'll try to answer your questions as best I can without ruining the story. Anyways, ONWARD AND OFFWARD!**

* * *

 **Chapter 20**

Gael takes the seat by Castiel and faces Sam. She places her hands on the table and clasps them together. She moves her blue eyes up to Sam and then shoots them down to the chair in front of her and she pats the seat next to her for Castiel. Both men sit down. Gael clasps her hands again and looks between the two of them.

"Now, we don't have much time if Rowina has the book of the damned." Gael looks down for a second, "We need a plan of action."

"We don't even know where she is," Sam starts, but Gael waves her a hand as if that isn't important.

"We can always track her," Gael says. "Ye still have something of hers, don't ye?"

The two men look at each other and then look away.

"No," Sam answers, "not anymore."

Gael furrows her brows. She sucks in the corner of her mouth and chews on it. Her eyes look down at the table and search the grains. She taps her pointer finger on the table in a slow rhythm. _Tap…tap…tap…tap._ Her finger picks up speed the longer she thinks. _Tap, tap, tap, tap, taptaptaptap…_ Then it stops.

She looks up at Sam. "Do you still have the chains you locked her in?"

Sam looks over to Castiel and Castiel shrugs his shoulders. He was a tad busy being a feral angel to pay attention to anything else other than killing Crowley.

"I think so," Sam says as he moves to get up.

He stops when he hears shuffling from the hallway. A wheezy breath escapes and he looks over to see Gael leaning against the door frame. Her blond hair is all over the place, sticking every which way. Her face is still pale, but there's more color than a couple of days ago. Sam's clothes makes it look like she's drowning in them, but she doesn't care.

Maire looks up at Sam and then over her shoulder. She jumps out of her chair and runs over to Gael. Maire grabs a hold of Gael's arm and swings it around her neck and shoulders.

"What are ye doing out of bed?" Maire scolds as she walks her over to the table.

"I need to borrow someone's phone. There's a call I have to make." Gael answers. "How's your vessel?" Gael counters. She grimaces as Maire helps her sit down

Maire kneels down in front of her daughter, which is a strange sight since Maire's vessel is younger than Gael. Maire gently touches Gael's necklace and looks up at her daughter's face.

"Ye're feeling better," Maire states.

Gael nods her head, "What are you guys talking about?"

"Nothing."

"Rowina."

Sam, Maire, and Castiel talk at the same time. Maire glares at the both of them.

"You're going to have to let me help," Gael says.

Maire shakes her head, brown hair swirling around her face. "You don't have enough power."

Gael's eyes flash an emerald green. "I have enough."

Sam pulls out his cellphone, unlocks it, and hands it to Gael. She punches in one of the only numbers she has memorized.

* * *

Barging into the extravagant hotel room, with flowing curtains and real wooden flooring, Rowina walks right up to The Darkness. She slams the book of the damned on the huge, oak dining table, which sits neatly in the middle of the room. With a sigh and a bored look, The Darkness looks at her. His black iris's taking in her impatience that's written all over her face.

"Ye have found yer match and ye've dun nothin'," she says.

"All in good time, love," The Darkness tries to reassure her with a smile.

The Darkness turns away, but Rowina won't let him go. She grabs his arm and forces him to look at her.

"The time is soon," she flips open the book to a page. The strange markings swirl and twirl together to make sense the longer The Darkness looks at it. "Ye see," Rowina points to a picture of an eclipse. "We must be ready."

"What are you talking about, love?" The Darkness gently takes the book away from Rowina and closes it. A sick, twisted smile refigures his face. "We are ready."

* * *

"Gael?" Jared asks into the phone as he walks into the radio station. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Gael answers in a frail voice. "He found me Jared. Dubhlainn found me."

Jared closes the door to his office and leans against it. "I know. I went to check up on you after you missed a few days of work."

"Did you let them know?"

"Yeah," Jared lets out a breath, "Yeah, I did."

"Good. That's good."

"Gael?"

"Jared?"

"Where are you? Do I need to pick you up?"

 _Crash. Bang. Fwesh._

Jared moves away from the door and looks at it.

 _Bang. Crash. Crack._

Quick, shallow breaths enter Jared's lungs as he hears outside noises coming closer. He tells Gael to be quiet. He holds his breath as he sees a shadow blocking the light coming from under his door. Jared gulps in some air. The shadow stops moving.

Jared waits. Nothing happens. The shadow doesn't move and the sounds stop.

"Jared?" Gael whispers into his ear.

 _CRASH!_

His office door is thrown open an there, standing in front of him is a man with brown, curly hair and brown eyes. Gael was right. His eyes are unoriginal, but still recognizable.

The Darkness tilts its head as it enters Jared's office and backs him into his desk.

"Hello, Jared," the deep, fairly unused voice scrapes along the back of Jared's arms, making the hairs stand up. "It's been a long time."

"Jared?" Gael says loudly, "Jared, is he there?"

"Don't come, Gael," Jared says. "Don't. Come."

Jared hangs up the phone and clutches it tightly in his hand. The Darkness clicks his tongue at Jared, as if he's done something wrong.

"Well that was just rude," The Darkness says as he walks forward. He reaches out his hand and grabs Jared by the collar of his shirt. "I wanted her to come."

* * *

Gael looks at Sam's phone. Her hazel eyes are wide and her mouth goes dry. She tries to breathe in air, but her lungs aren't cooperating. She throws Sam's phone on the table and quickly gets up. She rushes out of the main room with Cas, Maire, and Sam following behind.

"What's wrong? What's going on?" Dean asks when he sees everyone moving.

"We know where Dubhlainn is," Sam tosses over his shoulder, getting everything packed, as well as the shackles.

"Do we have a plan?" Dean asks, not completely understanding what's going on.

"Yeah," Gael says, sitting on her bed and tying her shoes. She finally looks up at him when she says, "Me."


	21. Chapter 21

**Alright you guys, here you go. Only a couple more chapters after this and it's done. If you want to make reading this chapter awesome, listen to the song _Bad Moon Rising_ sung by Mourning Ritual. That's what inspired this whole chapter. I mean, I wasn't even going to write it until I heard this song. Don't forget to review, PM me, or favorite and follow! Anyways, ONWARD AND OFFWARD!  
**

* * *

 **Chapter 21**

The sky is blue and cloudless. The roads are busy with cars driving by and honking their horns. Pedestrians fill the empty space with their loud voices talking on the phone and bicyclists dinging the bells to make the pedestrians move. Workers enter and exit the brick radio station. Some are carrying equipment out and putting it in a van, while others stand around and chit chat. About what, it doesn't matter. Jared drives in and parks his car. He steps out with his cellphone glued to his ear and talking to it. To whom, it doesn't matter. He enters the building while playing around with his messenger bag, messing around with some of his papers. The glass door swings shut behind him. What a normal, lovely day.

From the sidewalk, the Darkness stands and watches with a slight twerk of the corner of his mouth. The grey t-shirt and blue jeans Rowina picked out, helps him blend in. It also helps that no one knows what he looks like…for sure. He tilts his head to the side when he hears footsteps move up beside him. He doesn't have to look to know who it is, but he does. His brown eyes start at the feet, with the blood red heels and moves up the legs that are covered in black slacks. The Darkness takes in the white blouse, which is nicely tucked in, and the red hair, which is tied up into a bun. The professional attire looks good on Rowina. Being undercover has put them both in clothes they aren't comfortable in and it has taken time to watch the station. Rowina suggested they watch the station for a couple of days to see if Gael came back on her own. She didn't. Now, they've both gotten tired of waiting and it's time to make a move.

The two villains step onto the station's property and just watch as the busy little bumble bees buzz around, trying to get things ready. For what, it doesn't matter. Rowina takes the Darkness's hand and squeezes it. The brown eyes lock onto her green ones. She nods her head. He can see the excitement, which she's trying to contain, in her eyes. The Darkness shares the same excitement, except he doesn't hide it. Instead, he lets a smile finally escape as he slowly turns his head back to the station. He lets go of Rowina's hand and stretches out his fingers, his palms facing forward.

Cracks form in the black pavement and spreads out from their feet. Dust flows up from the cracks and it's a beautiful hissing sound to the Darkness's ears. It only makes his smile wider. Black smoke shoots up from cracks. It flies around and searches out for victims to take over. Screams fill the air as people are taken by force. The smoke slams its way down the victims' throats. What others would call a shrill screaming fest, the Darkness considers a beautiful symphony, playing only for him. The screams start to die down and demons start to line up behind The Darkness and Rowina.

The blue sky is taken over by huge, grey clouds, forcing darkness upon the world. The howling winds take over the voices of people talking. The Darkness holds his arm out to Rowina and she takes it with a smile. They start to walk forward. Every step the Darkness and Rowina takes, cars are flipped up into the air and more cracks appear, allowing more of the black smoke to escape. Thunder claps in the sky and lightning lights up the dark sky. More forces join behind the two villains as they make it to the entrance.

Rowina lifts her hand and blasts the glass doors in. They both take a step in, crushing pieces of glass under their shoes. Once they're in, the Darkness looks around at the huddled figures in the hallway. The employees cover their heads with folders and binders and some even with their jackets, if they're lucky. Some lay whimpering on the ground, shards of glass sticking out from their faces and hands. Doors are slammed closed and locked. The Darkness and Rowina take another step in, causing a few of the victims to scream. Raising his free hand up in the air, the Darkness allows the demons to run free into the building.

And the demons run free. Some of them pick up those with glass shards sticking out of them and decides to play with them. The others run down the building, kicking down doors and forcing people out. All, except one door, are open. The Darkness walks Rowina down the long hallway. Doors are blown open and windows are shattered, allowing the raging wind to whip everything apart. Screams follow the two down and screams lead them to where they go. One door is open and the Darkness looks in and spots a recording room with all the buttons and switches. He looks away and sparks fly from the machines, causing the room to catch on fire.

Once they've reached a door where three demons were attempting to break in, they stop. The three low level demons move aside for Rowina and the Darkness. She slides her arm from his and steps aside. With one touch to the door knob, the door blasts open and there stands Jared. Oh, the Darkness will cherish this day, not only for his main goal, but for the pure look of horror on Jared's face. He yells into the phone for Gael not to come and slams the phone down. The Darkness walks slowly up to him, pinning him against his desk. He grabs Jared by the collar and lifts him up so Jared's feet are barely touching the floor.

"Well that's just rude. I wanted her to come."

Jared grabs the Darkness's hand and tries to pull him off. It doesn't work, but it also doesn't matter. The Darkness lets go and Jared falls to his knees as he tries to catch his breath. Rowina walks in and stands beside the Darkness.

"They're all together," she says.

The Darkness nods his head and his brown curls bounce around his ears. He kneels down, so that he's face to face to Jared. He leans in and sniffs Jared. His wide smile opens and it shows teeth. The Darkness always did _love_ the smell of fear on his victims. It made playing with them all the sweeter.

"I'm not calling her back," Jared says as he tries to stand himself back up.

The Darkness pushes Jared back down, keeping his hand on Jared's shoulder. "I don't need you to, because you see, I know she's coming."

Jared keeps himself from gulping loudly and tries to keep his breathing even.

"She's going to want to protect everyone here," the Darkness waves his arm around to encompass their surroundings and those who are a part of it. "You see, she's going to sacrifice herself to save you. And you telling her not to come," the Darkness lets out a quiet, deep, chuckle, "Just made her want to come more. Isn't that just like her?"

 _Beep. Beep. Beep._

The Darkness pulls one of Jared's arms forward and finds his cellphone clutched tightly. Amusement dances in the brown eyes as he rips Jared's fingers open and forces the instrument out. He holds it up and looks at the black screen. A ten digit number is flashing, saying that the person called has hung up. The Darkness raises an eyebrow and tosses the phone across the room and into a wall. The useless thing breaks into pieces. Jared now has the Darkness's full attention.

"Who did you call?" The Darkness asks. Jared doesn't say anything. His breathing, however, quickens. The Darkness grips Jared by the neck and holds tight. "Who. Did. You. Call?"

Jared doesn't say anything.

"Alright then," The Darkness says, his grip getting tighter, "Fine."

His hand twists right and Jared's neck snaps. His body falls limp to the ground, while his head is facing 180 degrees. The Darkness stands up and wipes his hands together. He steps out of the room, with Rowina and the three demons following him.

"Are you sure she'll come?" Rowina asks, once they're back in the hallway.

The Darkness takes in the bodies littering the floor, whether they're alive or not, it doesn't matter.

"Of course she'll come," he says, walking into the chaotic hallway. "She always does."


	22. Chapter 22

**Holy fucking shit you guys, it's been a long ass time! I bet you didn't think I would post a chapter. Hah! Proved you guys wrong! Anyways, sorry I haven't posted in...over a month? Hell, it may have been two, but let me just get this out of the way so you guys can get to reading! I had three immense projects going on at once and then Thanksgiving happened and then final projects and over load hours of work and then I FREAKING GRADUATED! WOOOHOOO! I'M DONE WITH COLLEGE! Now I have to go get a grown up job! Anyways, loads of shit happened, but I'm free now! Well, sort of...but that's for another time. Sorry the chapter is really short, I'm getting back into the groove of writing. ONWARD AND OFFWARD!**

* * *

 **Chapter 22**

Gael, Sam, and Dean appear outside of the radio station. They stand outside of the fence. The outside is clear and calm. People are walking around like there's nothing happening, as if nothing is going on. Dean turns in a half circle, just taking in the normalcy of the day. Sam tightens his grips on the chains that once held Rowina. However, a couple of pedestrians did stare at the strange trio. Gael in her oversized pjs, Sam nervously twisting the chains, and Dean moving the duffle bag from one shoulder to the other. The two brothers turn and look at Gael.

"Are you ready for this?" Dean asks.

Gael nods her head.

"There's no turning back after this," Sam says.

Gael nods her head. She takes a step forward.

"I'm ready."

Gael walks ahead of the brothers and steps through the fence that separates the outside world from the radio station. One word describes the simple transition: Destruction.

Cars are flipped over. The parking lot is up turned, cracks that go all the way down breaking up the lot. The stairs that lead up to the station are nothing but rubble. Smoke is flying from the windows as the walls sag from trying to support the collapsed roof.

Sam and Dean walk up behind Gael and take it all in. Their eyes scan the area and spot a few bodies lying on the pavement. Sam lifts his hand and places it on Gael's shoulder. She straightens her back more and confidently walks forward, her head held high.

"Watch out!" Dean yells, tugging Gael back as a wall of fire shot up in front of her.

The wall dies down and there, in the entrance, stands Dubhlainn, or the Darkness. Gael's eyes lift from the ground and stare right into his. A group of demons come up from behind the Darkness and stand in front of him. A smirk lines his mouth and twerks the corner of his mouth up. He lifts his hand in command and the demons run towards the three.

Dean rummages through the duffle bag and tosses Sam a bottle of holy water. Since the Darkness has the demon knife, they're shit out of luck. As the demons move closer, Gael's eyes change to deep green.

She lifts both of her hands and curls her fingers. The demons stop in mid stride. She lifts her arms a little higher and the demons' heads are thrown back, mouths open. She closes her hands into a tight fist and a thousand screams fills the empty, devastating air. Black smoke is torn from the bodies of their victims. Wind screams past the three as the smoke is forced back into the cracks. The bodies fall to the ground in heap, but a breathing heap.

Dean and Sam look at each other. They carefully put away their demon fighting tools and stand a little closer to Gael's back.

"It's just safer, you know?" Dean whispers to Sam.

"Oh yeah and it's easier to guard her back." Sam whispers back.

"Exactly," Dean whispers.

"Sam. Dean. Go find Rowina." Gael orders. Her eyes lock onto the Darkness as he slinks back into the station. "That son of a bitch is mine."

The brothers look at each other and nod in agreement.

"Be careful," Sam says.

"Always." Gael responds.

Sam and Dean sneak off to move behind the station.

Stone-faced, Gael moves forward. The only thought and feeling as she moves closer to the enemy is: IT. IS. TIME.


	23. Chapter 23

**I know! It's been so fucking long! I'll put in a little thing at the end. ONWARD AND OFFWARD DEAR READERS!  
**

* * *

 **Chapter 23**

"Sam!" Dean yells.

Sam ducks as Dean shoots a shotgun shell, blessed with holy water, at a demon running at Sam from behind. Sam stands back up and nods his head in appreciation. Dean nods in return and turns his back on Sam. They're surrounded. Bodies that once littered the ground have become possessed with demons. No matter how many times they shoot. No matter how many prayers they throw the demons' way, nothing works. The boys can't think straight with the demons' high pitch screaming. The noise drags itself across their eardrums. The high pitch screeching stabs at their eardrums, as if with a needle. Sam falls down to his knees, covering his ears. Once he glances up, he can't see Dean. He can barely hear the gun go off, but he can't find his brother is this array of bodies and screaming. Sam goes flat to his stomach and belly crawls under the nearest vehicle. Luckily, this one wasn't flipped on its top or on its side.

Sam peaks up from beneath the smashed, white Toyota. _Damn it,_ Sam looks every which way for Dean, until he finally spots a head with brown hair, sticking up.

"Dean!" Sam yells over the screeches of the tortured souls.

Dean hunches down behind a car and reloads his shotgun. He moves his head up and over his shoulder. He finds Sam's face peeking under from a car. Sam's all bloody. Deep scratches tear apart his right cheek. Dirt smudges the blood along the lines, helping it stop bleeding. Sam tries to wiggle out from the car, but Dean finishes reloading and stands up.

He points and aims his shotgun. _BANG!_

Points. _BANG!_

Swivels. Points. _BANG!_

And Dean just keeps doing that until he's standing in front of Sammy. Sam yanks on the duffle bag that's still hanging off of Dean's shoulder. Dean drops it. Sam pulls it under the vehicle with him and unzips it. He riffles through it. _There_ has _to be something here._ Sam pushes around small hand guns, that have run out of ammo, a hunting knife, but not the one they need. And that's when Sam sees it. A small, grey, mega-phone. He pulls it out and tests the thing. Punching in the button, a loud screech escaped from the mega-phone.

"What the hell was that?" Dean yells over his shoulder.

Sam wiggles his hand between his back and the bottom of the car. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out the little book of exorcism. Sam flips through the pages until his finds the prayer he needs.

"Sam?" Dean yells again as he's pointing an shooting.

 _BANG!_ Dean ready's the gun once more, except a different sound touches his ears. A light click. _Son of a bitch!_ Dean checks his pockets with one hand and holds the gun with the other.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean yells out. "Sam! We're fucking screwed unless you have a plan!"

 _BEEEEEEP!_

"Ahem," Sam clears his throat. "Testing. One. Two. Three."

All the demons stop. They look over at Dean.

"Fuck."

The demons surrounds the car and Dean and start to slowly walk in on them.

" _In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen,"_ Sam says in Latin. " _Most glorious Prince of the Heavenly Armies, Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in our battle against principalities and powers, against the rules of this world of darkness, against the spirits of wickedness in the high places."_

"Sam!" Dean calls out, as the demons stop once more. "You do realize we put Michael in the pit, right?"

"Shut up, Dean!" Sam says, pulling the mega-phone away. " _In the Name and by the power of Our Lord Jesus Christ, may you be snatched away and driven from the Church of God and from the souls made to the image and likeness of God and redeemed by the Precious Blood of the Divine Lamb!"_

All of the demons' mouths open and black smoke is ripped from the victims' throats.

" _The Most High God commands you, he with whom, in your great insolence, you still claim to be equal! God the Father commands you. God the Son commands you. God the Holy Ghost Commands you! Give place to Christ in whom you have found none of your works; give place to the One, Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic Church acquired by Christ at the price of His Blood!"_

The bodies collapse, one on top of another. It's like watching dominoes tumble down in a singular, smooth, motion. Dean puts his hand down to keep Sam from coming out. Dean looks around him at all the still bodies. There's no black smoke coming from the ground. There's no one standing up and attacking them.

"It's clear," Dean says.

He leans down and takes Sam's outreached hand and helps pulls him out from the car.

"Now, to get Rowina," Sam says as he dusts his hands off on his jeans.

Sam reaches down and drags the duffle bag out and swings onto his shoulder, putting the mega-phone and prayer book inside of it.

"Well done, boys." A female voice turns their head.

Dean and Sam turn their entire bodies and face Rowina. Her hair is down, but she's still wearing her slacks and blouse. She gives them a small round of applause, smoke billowing behind her.

"What?" Dean snaps. "No more demons?"

"Of course not!" Rowina looks as if she's shocked by such an accusation. "They were just a warm up for ya. Can't have me boys pull a muscle now, can I?"

Dean and Sam move out from behind the car and slowly walk towards Rowina. Sam picks up the shackles from the ground. Rowina lifts both hands, in warning. Dean and Sam stop.

Rowina quirks her mouth up and spreads her fingers to let her power free. Black, smoky tendrils extend from the palms of her hands and move out towards the brothers. Cement covers their feet, keeping them still. The black tendrils swirl around Dean and Sam a couple of times before shooting into their chests.

Throwing their heads back, they scream like they've never screamed before. The force of the screams rips at their throats, until they become raw. The tendrils just keep digging into them, forcing the pain of this world and every world after that.

Then, the pain just stops. The tendrils let the brothers go and they fall onto their hands and knees. Sam has just enough will power to force his head up. Rowina looks at her hands, confused.

Her arms are pulled back at an unnatural angle and she screams about as loudly as Dean and Sam moments before. Black tendrils are pulled from her body, moving towards the radio station building. Dean and Sam can hear the tendrils _ripping_ from Rowina's back. But that's not the only part of her that's being pulled away. A purple mist twirls around the tendrils, following it.

A gasp leaves her mouth once the purple mist and black tendrils have disappeared. Rowina collapses and falls. Dean and Sam stare at her, waiting for her to move. But she doesn't.

Dean grunts as he reaches for the shackles and forces himself to stand up. He stumbles, but catches himself on random debris, until he finally reaches Rowina. Dean falls to his knees and pulls Rowina's arms out from under her. With a satisfying click of the cuffs, Dean lets out the breath he's been holding.

 _Boom! Whomp whomp whomp! Ssshhhfffffvvvv!_

Sam and Dean look back at the building and see a green beam shoot up into the sky and fan out until it reaches the edge of the building. Dean pushes himself up and runs towards the back door.

The Darkness is standing in front of him while Gael is facing Dean. She pulls her arm down and opens her hand, the green light disappearing into the necklace. Dean goes for the door handles, but they're locked. He picks up a piece of broken cement and tries to bash the glass door in, but it won't.

Gael looks over at him. Dean drops the cement piece and starts banging on the door with his fists.

"Gael! Let me in!" Dean yells. "Gael!"

The Darkness turns his head and peers over at Dean. Dean pounds harder on the door. Gael lifts her hand and a green blast pushes him away.

Dean pushes himself up against the brick wall.

"Fuck," a voice groans.

Dean looks over to his side. A person is rubbing their neck with one hand and rubbing their forehead with the other.

"Jared?" Dean asks.

* * *

The door shuts and locks behind Gael. She takes a quiet step forward and waits. Nothing. She takes another step forward. Again. Nothing. She continues walking down the destroyed hallway. Lights are dangling from the ceiling. Dust flutters through the air with anything shifts. The building creaks with weary sounds. Droplets of water fall from the broken water sprinklers. Rooms have been destroyed from the inside. Some have just been completely collapsed. Others are torn apart. Windows shattered. Walls torn down. Doors busted in and hanging from their hinges.

Gael reaches Jared's office, the only door still attached to the frame. She pushes it open, carefully. She sees shoes first and as she pushes the door open even further, she sees his limp, lifeless body lying on the floor.

"No," Gael whispers.

She slowly walks into the office. She kneels down by Jared's head and gently carts her fingers through his black hair. She rubs strands of hair between her fingers. Tenderly, her fingers touch his forehead and his cheek. She cups his face with both hands. Gael leans her forehead to his. Her necklace dangles and touches his chest.

"I'm sorry," she whispers into his forehead.

She closes her eyes and kisses his forehead.

"What a lovely sight," A gravelly, harsh voice drags her attention away from Jared.

She doesn't say anything to him. To the Darkness, as the man she once loved stands in front of her.

The Darkness takes a step forward. "Shall we have a fun little game?"

Without missing a beat, Gael rips the necklace off of her and touches the medallion to Jared's chest. In a flash of green light, Jared's gone. Gael's eyes shut for a second, her power lessening.

The Darkness tilts his head, "A little weak now, are we?"

Gael forces her eyes open and stares at him. His black iris's never leaving her green one's. Gael tries to stand up, but the Darkness shoots his arm out and shoves her to the ground. He stalks to her, but then he encircles her, as predator would with a prey.

"Where's the other part of you?" He asks, dark tendrils coming out of his body.

Gael says nothing. She just watches as the tendrils slither through the air, sliding around his shoulders.

"I can sense she's not with you," The Darkness says, the tendrils slide down his arms and around his wrists and fingers. He reaches out his hand to Gael. "Maybe we'll call her, huh?"

The Darkness chuckles. He spreads his fingers and just as he's about to give Gael the most immeasurable pain that there ever is in the world, her eyes glow green.

A green blast appears out of nowhere, shoving the Darkness through the wall and out into the hallway. Gael is pushed up by sheer force. She walks towards the Darkness as green fire burns behind her. It follows her like a cape and is as controlled as a remote car. Her hand moves forward, the fire moves around her, and latches onto the Darkness. He jumps out and the black tendrils snuff out the flames.

Another green blast appears and the fire forces him up against the wall. The Darkness can feel the cleansing power of the green fire. His skin bubbles at the intense heat of the flames, but it doesn't kill him. No, it's burning layers of him until there is nothing but purity. He's going to need more power.

The Darkness spreads out his arms and yells something in a rough, guttural words. The floor shakes and new cracks appear. Gael looks down and tries to step away from the forming cracks. When she does finally look up, black tendrils move through the wall and enter the Darkness's back. It's when the purple mist appears and is absorbed in his body as well, Gael understands what to do.

The immense power puts out the flames, but it also shoots Gael back. She doesn't go through the wall, but she does hit it and it crumbles down and around her. She stands up and shoves her hand up into the sky, the one holding her necklace. A green beam shoots up from it and spreads it radius as far as the broken doors. Everything is now sealed. Nothing can get in. Nothing can get out.

The Darkness only smirks at her, his pitless eyes saying how happy she is that she did that.

Gael gets to her feet, hand still up, and walks towards him. She stops when she spots Dean at the back door.

The Darkness turns around at the noise and just as he's about to snap his fingers, Gael sends a green blast towards Dean, flying him backwards and away.

"Tsk. Tsk. Tsk." The Darkness shakes his head in disappointment. "I was looking forward to his bones snapping."

Gael drops her hand. Her eyes close on her and she's breathing heavy.

The Darkness lifts his hand and watches as the black tendrils crawl around his hands and fingers.

"Now, let's have some fun," a cruel smile crosses his face. "Shall we?"

* * *

 **Okay, I'm so sorry for not posting for almost three months. I got a new position at work and I had been feeling super awesome and ready to write and then shit hit the fan. I haven't had the energy to write, but for some reason today, I made myself write. So, feeling like shit and dealing with shit, I haven't been feeling it. But, after writing this chapter, I just realized there's probably around three or four chapters left to write and it's kind of sad. I mean, this journey is ending, but I am planning another one, so it's not necessarily the end. Not yet anyways. Anyhow, thank you for still caring, for following and sending me private messages about why I haven't written anything yet. That's the end of this little note, but please follow and review. Send me private messages if you so choose. I hope you guys have an amazing weekend!  
**


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

"There," Maire points on the map in the middle of the white pristine room. "That's where the tree was and now is no more."

Castiel makes a red mark on the map. Hannah looks at all the dots on the map from where the massacres happened. His eyes went to the giant red dot where the tree was located. He places a finger on it and follows it one of the closer locations. Hannah's finger moves to the left. Once it hits the nearest location, his finger swoops up in an arch like motion and makes a slight point at the top. His finger arches back down to the right and swoops back to the tree.

"What are ye seeing?" Maire asks.

"A design," Hannah responds. "But I don't know what it is yet."

Castiel and Maire stand back and they watch Hannah make the same shape in the east, west, and south side of the map. The corners of each each overlapping each other.

"There's something missing," Hannah says to himself. He points to the other location that are within the four shapes. "There are more locations in here, but they don't necessarily connect with the other locations. Are they outliers? Random hits?"

"No, I don't think so," Castiel answers. "Everything else he's done is connected. He doesn't just do random hits. There must be something linking these other locations?"

Maire walks up to the map. Her eyes follow one location and swoop her eyes up to the next one. The bow of the line arches inwards. The same motion is the same from the three other locations.

"It's a dara Celtic knot," Maire whispers.

Hannah follows the the locations that same way that Maire's eyes did. "She's right."

"I'm not exactly clear on what that is," Castiel says.

"In the Irish culture, dara comes from the word for oak tree." Maire starts to explain.

"And the oak tree signifies destiny, wisdom, strength, endurance, power, and leadership." Hannah chimes in.

"It represents the root system of the oak tree root system. It's a reminder of the infinite sources of inner strength below the calm exterior." Maire finishes up. "It's usually used for rituals."

"That's what he's doing, isn't it," Hannah looks over to Maire. "He's using it to gain more power."

"Not just any power," Maire says. "My power."

* * *

The Darkness throws Gael across the building. Her back smashes into the front doors, but they don't budge. The spell she used is holding. Good. That is good. Nothing can get in and nothing can get out. She can feel her body falling apart. Her bones are barely holding it together and so is the rest of her body. She hadn't meant to, but she used up most of it bringing back Jared. That's okay, it was worth it. He's alive. He can finish what they started. He can let them know, the Organization.

The Darkness walks over the debris towards Gael. She pushes herself up, back against the door.

"Now, now, what is this?" He kneels down in front of her, his head tilted to the side. "Why are you so weak?"

Gael pushes back up against the door, her head turns away from him.

The Darkness brings his face right up to hers. He brings his hand up and touches her face with it. He is black eyes look into her hazel ones.

"Oh, I see now," He whispers. "Your vessel is dying. You've used too much of mommy's power."

Gael's breathing quickens. She isn't surprised he knows. Gael knew she's dying. She's known for a while. That's why she left. That's why she didn't want to help. She wasn't ready to say goodbye. She wasn't ready to die. But she has to finish this. Gael made a promise to herself and to her mother.

"Gael!"

Gael turns her head in the direction of the dulled voice. Sam and Dean are running towards the front door. She has to hurry.

She grabs the wrist that is holding her face.

"I see you too," she whispers. "I see that you're frightened. This a new world with new rules and creatures."

His joking eyes turns frightening. But she isn't scared. Not anymore.

"This place is a lot more stronger than when I put you away. People who are willing to fight for those who are hidden in the dark. And those who fight, aren't easy to take down."

Gael's other hand grabs on the collar of the Darkness's shirt. She pulls him in closer. "I wish you luck," she breathes. "Because I know, that in the end, you're going to lose."

"Castiel!" Dean's voice is closer now. His hands turns into fists and pounds on the glass windows. "Come on Castiel! Come down here and fucking help!"

"Your time is coming to an end," The Darkness hisses. "There's nothing left for you to do."

Gael's eyes harden and turn into a deep, emerald green. "You wanna bet?"

* * *

"Something's wrong," Maire says as she wraps her arm around her stomach. "Something's very wrong with Gael."

Castiel abruptly stands up, "It's Dean and Sam. There's something wrong. Geal's fighting the Darkness."

"No," Maire whispers. "No."

"What is it?" Castiel asks.

"I can't find her!" Maire panics. "I can't find her!"

"You two go, do what you have to," Hannah commands. "I'll get the fleet ready and send them out as soon as we can."

* * *

"Mr. Crowley," a high pitched voice grates against Crowley's sensitive ears. "Mr. Crowley?"

"What the bloody hell," Crowley forces his eyes open. Once he's gained control of them and the blurriness disappears, Crowley noticed they are in a different room.

He places a hand on his forehead and slowly sits up. He looks around at the overly decorated room. The room is pretty small, enough space for a single person and one that's barely the size of a child. The walls are a warm maroon color and the carpet is a cream color, fairly clean. Well, clean enough. The furniture is at least made of real wood. There's only a bed with a small round table and two chairs near the door.

"Mother said I had to keep you safe," the green thing looks down at its feet. "He won't find you here. Here you are safe."

Crowley tries to jump to his feet, but when he stands up, the whole room shifts and twirls. The green thing twaddles over. It stands up on the bed and holds onto Crowley's shoulders until he's able to stabilize himself. Slowly, Crowley turns around and grabs the creature by the neck.

"What have you done to me!" Crowley spits in its face. "What the hell have you done to me!"

"Your heart!" The creature gasps. "Feel your heart!"

Crowley lets one hand go and places it over his chest, where his heart used to be.

 _Ba-bum. Ba-bum. Ba-bum. Ba-bum._

It was a strange feeling. He can't remember the last time he was able to feel that beat. To feel that slight rising and falling movement of his chest. It feels so... _human._

 _Ba-bum. Ba-bum. Ba-bum._

Crowley listens to it beating for the next couple of seconds, just _feeling_ his heartbeat. He lessens his grasp on the creature's neck. Crowley turns and sits on the bed, with his heart beating against his palm.

* * *

Gael grabs the Darkness's shirt with both hands.

"You want to see how much power I have left?"

Gael shoves her hands into the Darkness's chest. Her fingers turn into claws and move slowly inside. She grasps his heart with both hands. A green light lines her form as she uses every last bit of life force inside of her.

"Set him free," Gael commands. "I command you to set Dubhlainn free! May you use his form _no more!"_

All of the green light moves from around to her arms and seeps inside of the Darkness's vessel. Black vines ripple from out of his body. He grits his teeth and slams his eyes shut. But it's not enough. He can feel it. The soul he clamped away a long time ago, is now coming free. The pressure in his mind is gradually becoming greater. Like a hammer pounding away at the inside of his skull. And there it is. That voice. The voice that was locked away, never to be heard from again. It's still begging and pleading. It never stopped. How could this boy's soul never stop calling out?

The final push and the final shove came. The Darkness was blown away, the body...gone. The only thing left over is a small, dark blue slight, dancing above the open spot. It moved from side to side. Finally, with it finally gaining peace, the dark, blue light drifts away, through the ceiling and into the sky.

Gael sends her last thought along with it. _You're free now, Dubhlainn, my love. May we meet in peace._

Gael can hear knocking and pounding. She's sure someone can hear her name. But her hearing is going away. Her body feels relatively light. She can't remember the last time she's felt this light. Her eyes drift closed. She breathes in and breathes out. _Goodbye, mother._ She breathes in and she breathes out. _I love you._

She breathes in and she breathes…

The world slows down. The air stops moving. Birds stop singing. Leaves stop falling and people stop moving. Everything comes to a halt. At least for now. At least for today. Only for today.

* * *

 **Sorry it took me so long. A couple of people in my life have passed away in the last weeks and...it's been hard. But, I finally wrote this and I finally put this out. I'm sorry if it's not very good, but again, re-edits are on the way. Anyways, I hope you all have a safe memorial weekend.**


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

Dean and Sam run around from the back of the radio station to the front. The stairs have collapsed, the parking lot looks as if bombs had been dropped, and there's a faint green shimmer around the front door of the station. Dean grabs onto the metal hand railing and uses the brick wall to climb up it. Sam follows and they reach the front doors. They both have to hug the doors so they don't fall off.

 _SPF! FWIP! WOMP! SPF!_

The building shakes as green and black sparks shoot off from every which direction. Lights explode and blows are blown out. The building shakes, but this time from the lack of foundation. The building was barely standing up by will power.

Gael skids down the rubble hallway, her back slamming down hard on the floor. The Darkness walks through the debris, as if it is nothing but smoke. He stands over her, with a smirk on her face.

"Gael!" Dean yells. He slams his hands against the door.

"Gael!" Sam yells with his brother.

They repeat her name as if it is a chant. She looks back at them, her eyes glowing a beautiful, deep, emerald green. The Darkness took this moment to blast her, the black, oozing tendrils, shoves further down the hall, until her back is up against the wall.

"Castiel!" Dean screams, still pounding his fists against the door.

"Gael!" Sam screams her name. "Come on! Open the door! Open the goddamn door!"

Gael grabs The Darkness's shirt and pulls him forward.

"Castiel!" Dean roars, hopping that this would capture his friend's attention. "Come on Castiel! Get down here and fucking help!"

Dean and Sam watch as Gael shoves her fucking hands into The Darkness.

"Holy shit," Dean whispers.

Dean and Sam watch as Gael literally rips The Darkness open. They see another faint form slowly appearing from behind the two forces. It is too light for them to see its features, but they know who it is. The form is swept up in a dark blue mist and a bright green light fills the building and in a flash, it's gone.

Dean and Sam look back and see Gael slouched against the door. Her chest is barely moving.

"No," Sam whispers.

"Gael!" They both yell. "Gael! Gael! Come on!

Her name becomes a desperate call. Dean wants to fall down to his knees, but just as soon as his foot slips, he holds tighter to the door hinges. Sam and Dean look at each other, tears trying to force themselves out, but they were willed not to fall. Not yet, at least.

"Dean," a soft voice calls out to him.

Carefully, Dean turns his head and looks back. And there he is the one who is supposed to guard and protect him. Castile's hair is windswept, as if he flew as fast as he could. His coat is ripped along the sides and the sleeves. His shirt is disheveled and there are cuts and bruises all over his face.

Dean let go of the doors and fell to the broken ground. Sam stayed, holding onto the doors. Castiel stayed on the very entrance of parking lot. Maire was…Maire wasn't there.

Dean looks up and sees…nothing. His eyes move over to the trees and they're still. Birds are frozen in place and a ladybug is frozen mid-flight, its wings and shells still parted from each other. The air feels still. He can feel it moving when he does. But a greater force than his small movements forces the air to shift.

There she is. She stands by Castiel at the entrance and slowly walks forward. She forces the air to move around her with each step she takes. Dean, Castiel, and Sam could feel the particles shift and change around. They were being rearranged, forced from their frozen positions.

Maire leapt up to the doors. She places her hands on them and closes her eyes. She moves through them and disappears.

Maire enters the destroyed radio station. She takes in the fallen walls and collapsed ceilings. Her daughter had protected the outside world by keeping the destruction locked inside.

* * *

Falling to her knees, Maire reaches out and gently touches her daughter's face. She strokes the hair from around Gael's eyes and sweeps it behind her ear.

"Ciúin anois, mo ghrá." _Quiet now, my love._

Maire rocks her daughter's body back and forth, as if lolling Gael to sleep.

For that day, a single day, the Earth stood still. The Earth stood still to allow a prolonged moment to say goodbye. But it wasn't just this mother and daughter saying goodbye, but for all those who are losing someone within that moment. Giving them enough time to say goodbye.

It was the day the Earth stood still.

 **Chapter 26**

Dean and Sam watched the news in a nearby bar. The news anchor shows the destruction of the radio station, claiming that there was bomb placed on the premises. Dean and Sam took their bottles of beer and move to a quieter corner of the bar.

There were casualties, everyone died. It was an act of terrorism, but the terrorist group has yet to come forward.

Taking a sip of their beer, they both say nothing. What is there to say? What is there to do? Maire removed the shielding spell, recreated the site to look like an explosion took place. Later that evening, they're having a proper send off for Gael, but that's later. Right now, alcohol is needed.

They take another sip.

Sam slowly spins his bottle around with his fingers while holding the neck of the beer. Looking at the alcohol contents swishing around.

Dean taps his bottle, the clicking barely making a sound.

The both take a sip.

There were sounds of chairs scraping against the floor, while patrons moved around the bar. The soft sound of the beer tap being pulled, and the liquid sound of it hitting an empty glass. People chat contently to each other, talking about work, life, and the news. Someone laughs at a joke. Actually, it was more a light chuckle.

The bar smells of fries, burgers, and trucker sweat. The low lighting makes it easy to hide in the corner. People in this bar aren't particularly friendly, nor are they aggressive. They just keep to themselves and their own people.

There are people wearing rumpled suits, as if they had a rough day at work. There are people that are wearing shirts and jeans, caked in dirt. There is a couple sitting on the other side of bar, holding hands. There are people wearing sports jerseys, but not watching the game. All of these people had their eyes glued to the T.V.

All of these people don't know what happened today. They only have an idea. But the two lonely boys sitting in a corner booth know. They will always know. They see the victims' families. They watched them fall to their knees as the fire fighters brought out, one after another, bodies covered in a white sheet. There were shrill screams from some and deadly silence from others.

Those boys take their last sip. They pay and tip the bartender. They leave, off to say goodbye to one of their own.

* * *

Inside the bunker, Castiel, Maire, Sam, and Dean sit around a table. Just sitting. Books have been put away. Laptops are closed and set off to the side.

Castiel shifts in his seat, uncomfortable with the somber silence.

Sam has his hands on the table, his thumbs fiddle with slight movement.

Dean has pushed his chair back, his legs stretched out, and hands on his lap.

Maire is just sitting, her head forward, but her eyes glossed over.

They're just waiting for someone to make the first move.

 _Knock, knock, knock._

No one moved. No one said anything.

 _Knock, knock, knock._

Only one person moved, but still no one said anything.

 _Knock, knock, knock._

"It's Jared, Gael's friend. Please open up."

With a wave of her hand, the door unlocked. Opening the door, Jared walks in. His black hair is matted with dirt and twigs are sticking out of his hair and clothes. There's a purple line around his neck. Must have been where his neck was broken. He's covered in scratches and bruises. But for a man that died, he looks pretty good.

His steps are slow and clunky. Jared slips down a few steps, but his hand catches on the barrister. Everyone stays sitting still, as they hear the clunking of Jared's shoes finish walking down the stairs. He stumbles a little towards Maire, but finally makes to the table she was sitting at. He pulls out a chair and falls into it. He's breathing heavy, but it still doesn't take the group out of their solitude.

Jared reaches into his pocket and pulls out a USB port. He places it in front of Maire on the table. There's a white label on it with the word "mother" written on it. Maire looks at Jared, her eyes asking a question. He nods his head, confirming what she's asking.

Maire grabs a laptop, picks up the USB, and shuffles out of the room, carefully cradling it.

Maire enters one of the bedrooms and sits the laptop down. She picks up the USB and plugs it in. Lifting the top, quickplayer pops up and there, sitting in the middle of the frame is Gael. She looks…so alive.

She hits the play button.

"Hello mother," Gael waves to the camera with a small smile, "If you're watching, well, you know how it goes in the movies." She shuffles around a bit in chair, as if uncomfortable with the situation.

"Now, don't be mad mom," she starts off, looking into the camera, "I'm sorry I left you. But I knew. I knew what was happening to me, I could feel the power burning me up from the inside out. I didn't want you to watch as it happened. So I left." Gael lets out a long breath and smiles.

"I know you've been worried about me. Where I've been, what I've done. But don't worry, I fought the good fight whenever I was needed. It just got to be too much."

Gael looks down at her hands, contemplating what she's going to say next. A few minutes go by.

"Mom, I have a proposition for you," Gael looks back up at the camera. "I want you to seriously consider it. Please, for me."

* * *

Maire walks out of the room, her face red and blotchy. Her eyes shining bright with the tears that haven't stopped flowing. She stands in front of the group. She's changed her vessel as well as her clothes. Maire is now a white female vessel, hair bright red, and eyes a lonely blue. A long, black cloak covers her from head to toe, with the Celtic Dragon embroidered with gold thread.

"It is time for the burial," Maire says as she pulls up her hood.

Castiel, Sam, Dean, and Jared, follow Maire into the woods, a bright flame guiding their way. The humans couldn't tell if it is shadows or magic, but it seemed as if the trees and the brush are moving out of their way, slowly showing them where they are to go. The small flame steadily grows with each step they take, floating in front of them.

Finally, in a small clearing, there in middle stands a pyre, where a lifeless body lies. They circle around the body, that has been dressed in white. Her hands lay crossed on her chest. Her hair is spread around her face. Her face is small, white, and peaceful. The bottom of the white gown flows from her bare feet.

Jared steps forward and gently lifts her top hand. He carefully places a gold coin underneath. He puts her hand and gently pats it. Kissing her forehead, a few tears slip down her cheeks.

Maire lifts both her hands and the flame splits into many small ones, circling the pyre. They dance against the darkness, casting those weird shadows, where it looks as if the trees are bowing slightly. Their branches dipping slightly as if also paying their respects to the lost life.

Maire takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out.

"There are no words for the loss of an innocent life. For a life where they might not have been all good, but they tried their damnedest. Where they were given a life where the odds were against them, but they made the best of it."

Her voice came out loud and clear.

"An innocent life lost, was surrounded by love and support by all who met her. She wasn't the best person in the world, and she didn't try to be. She just happened to be one of the best. There are many who didn't accomplish what she did, but most don't know what she's accomplished. But for those who know her, who truly know her, know what she's accomplished. They will remember it forever in their hearts and minds. They will be reminded."

Dean, Sam, Castiel, and Jared bow their heads.

"Ye may have felt like ye've accomplished nothing, but to those whose hearts ye have touched, ye accomplished everything. Ye are well loved. Ye have been busy, ye deserve this rest. So may ye rest in peace, my love…my darling. Ye have done well."

Maire slowly lowers her arms. The small flames move closer to the pyre. Once Maire's hands are down at her sides, the flames have touched the pyre and slowly start to burn.

" _Smile, though your heart is aching. Smile, even though it's breaking._ " Maire's singing voice comes out slow and sad. " _When there are clouds, in the sky, you'll get by._ "

Quiet tears start to stream, and sniffling breaks up the words.

" _If you smile through your pain and sorrow, smile and maybe tomorrow, you'll see the sun come shining through, for you."_

They watch as the flames slowly engulf the white, causing the flame to change colors, but only slightly.

" _Light up your face with gladness, hide every trace of sadness. Although a tear, may be ever so near."_

As the body starts to break down, an emerald green mist rises from the body. It twists up and around in the air.

" _That's the time, you must keep on trying. Smile, what's the use of crying."_

A dark blue mists swirls down and catches with the emerald green mist. They happily and excitedly swirl with each other. Intertwining and untwining.

" _You'll find that life is still, worthwhile, if you'll just smile."_

As the sad tune comes to an end, the two mists dance up into the night sky and disappear among the stars.

Now, all that's left are five people, standing around a burning pyre, with nothing but fire to keep them warm.

* * *

Crowley is pacing the empty hotel room. Back and forth. Back and forth. When is that little squeaky thing coming back? It said that it was going to be gone for a few minutes. It's been days!

As Crowley is about to leave through the front door, the green imp pops back in. Turning to look at it, Crowley noticed that it was wearing black clothes instead of its normal green ones. It looks as if the imp has been mourning at a funeral.

"Where the _bloody hell_ have you been!" Crowley growls at the imp.

The imp places its hat on its head and sits on the floor.

"Mother lost her daughter, so we hid in the shadows. We didn't want to interrupt," its voice very quiet, but still squeaky.

Crowley looks down at the carpet. He knows he should offer condolences, but he refuses to allow humanity to get the better of him. He refuses to be human!

As he about to say something, he looks up and sees something crawling around in the vent behind the imp's head. Crowley's eyes widen, but he doesn't say anything. The imp looks up and sees Crowley's surprised face.

"What is it?" The imp asks, but Crowley says nothing.

A long dark tendril extends out from the vent.

The imp turns around.

The tendril wraps around the imps tiny neck and pulls up and flings the dead body to the wall.

"What are you? Who are you?" Crowley stammers, afraid to go to the dead imp.

Its eyes stare at him from across the room. A hand reaches out to Crowley as if asking for help. The little imp crumbles into ashes and turns into a small dust pile.

The tendril gently strokes Crowley's face as it slides out of the vent and down to the floor.

"Hello, Crowley," the darkness whispers to him. The tendrils wrap around Crowley's face and neck. "I've missed you, almost as much as I've missed you."

Crowley gulps down a bunch of air. He's human. He's weak. He's powerless.

"Yesssss," the darkness hisses in Crowley's ear. "You've missed my power haven't you? How would you like it back? Except, now, you'll be stronger!"

 _What?_ Crowley thinks to himself.

"You'll be more powerful and stronger," the darkness whispers to him. "You will be invincible!"

Crowley barely nods his head, but it was enough. The darkness saw it. The tendrils crawled into Crowley's mouth, down his throat, and into his stomach. Soon, there were more tendrils, crawling through his eyes, and nose. Slowly killing him once more.

Crowley throws his head and arms back. A blast of power shot through his fingers, obliterating the hotel and everyone inside it.

A dark, twisted smile contorted his face to look inhuman.

"Hello darkness, my old friend."

* * *

 **Well you guys, this is it. This is the end. It's been a long and wild ride. I wanted to thank everyone for reading this and following it. I am turning this into a trilogy, but I just haven't had time to write out the second part yet. Honestly, this is the longest story I've ever written and finished. I think it turned out decent, definitely needs more work. Anyways, until next time. You guys have a happy holiday, and stay safe.  
**


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